Читать книгу The Chaoswar Saga: A Kingdom Besieged, A Crown Imperilled, Magician’s End - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 12

DINNER HAD BEEN FESTIVE.

At Tal Hawkins’ request, Hal and Phillip had dined at the River House, a restaurant located in one of the richer districts in the city. Named after the original establishment Hawkins had opened in the city of Olasko years earlier, it enjoyed much the same success and reputation as the original. The food was splendid, the most important personages in the Kingdom came to dine there, and not being a tavern or inn, the dining room was not crowded with travellers, merchants, and foreigners. In other words, the establishment appealed to the worst in Roldemish elitism and snobbery.

To Hal’s surprise, a healer had arrived before the meal and had used some impressive magic to heal the groin injury and now he was beginning to wish he had agreed to a one-day postponement. He found himself drawn to Ty, though he still was fairly sure he disliked him after the way he had looked at the Princess. Hal was working himself into a fair state of youthful jealousy over a girl he hadn’t even spoken with, despite the fact it was a foregone conclusion he was to marry Lady Bethany of Carse.

Jim had acted as host at dinner, despite the invitation coming from Tal. At first Hal and Phillip had been a little surprised, but after the first course of wine and food arrived, all questions of who had made the invitation were put aside. For Hal and Phillip, this was the finest meal they had ever had.

At the halfway point, Hal said, ‘I feel fit to burst, my lord Hawkins, yet I can’t wait to see what your next culinary surprise is.’

‘Not “my lord”, just Tal.’

Jim smiled. ‘Our host is being modest. He holds the title of Court Baron in the Kingdom, though he abides in Olasko now, and has a few commendations from Roldem.’ For years an independent duchy, Olasko had become part of the Kingdom of Roldem as part of a treaty settlement after the last independent duke, Kaspar, had been deposed. Tal had played a major hand in that and as a result was highly regarded in Roldem. He still resided in Olasko, but kept quarters in the River House.

‘Still,’ said Tal, ‘I fear my patents are—’ he glanced at Jim, ‘not of sufficient import to deserve the honorific.’ In fact, both men knew that the original role played by Tal, that of an obscure Kingdom noble, was a charade. Born of a tribal people high in the mountains called the High Fastness which bordered Olasko to the west, he had been one of the few survivors of a brutal war waged on his nation. Fate and circumstance, and the invisible hand of the Conclave of Shadows had led him around the world and had gained him fame and wealth, but it had come at a bitter price. Finally, he said, ‘Just Tal is fine.’

‘Where did you learn to fence?’ Ty asked Hal. ‘I didn’t expect such skill from someone from …’ he paused as if trying to pick his next words carefully. The Far Coast of the Kingdom might as well have been on another world to those who lived around the Sea of Kingdoms.

Hal grinned. ‘The rustic West?’ he supplied.

Swordmaster Phillip shrugged. ‘It’s true, but there are several lads I’ve trained who would be no shame to the Duchy of Crydee had they come in his stead.’

‘It’s not all broadswords and heater shields,’ said Hal. ‘Our family’s tradition is to train in a variety of weapons. The Far Coast is heavily wooded, with few places for battles on open land, so we train as we must to defend our homes.’

‘Interesting,’ said Tal. ‘I know from experience that terrain is critical, and those who do not know how to fight where they find themselves are at a disadvantage.’ He was thinking of his mountainous homeland and how different warfare was there compared to the more civilized regions of the Eastern Kingdoms where there were roads and rivers to transport armies and their necessities.

‘We have a good number of archers,’ said Hal. ‘Both bondsmen and franklins, most of whom are skilled hunters with the longbow.’

At that Tal smiled.

‘You know the bow?’ asked Phillip.

As wine was poured by the servants, Talwin began to shake his head, but it was Jim who answered. ‘He can take a rider out of his seat at a hundred yards.’

Tal’s eyes narrowed. That story was only known to a few and up until this minute he would have bet every gold coin he had that Jim Dasher had never heard the tale of his hunting down the mercenary named Raven.

After being silent for a brief second, Tal said, ‘Could once, but I fear my skills have declined with age.’

Suddenly Swordmaster Phillip was animated. ‘You know, speaking of riders, there’s this new sort of bow, Keshian originally, a double recurved laminated with ox horn instead of heartwood. Have you seen it?’

Jim caught Tal’s eye and Hawkins said, ‘Yes, but perhaps we can discuss archery another time, Swordmaster.’ He had noticed that the last of the other diners had departed. ‘We are alone, Jim.’

‘The servants?’

‘All with me for years and trusted. If Roldem or Kesh has an agent in my employ, Pug’s got some magic-users who cannot do their jobs.’

‘Good enough,’ said Jim. He turned first to Hal, then Tal, and said, ‘I have sought you out to bring you warnings, both of you.’

‘What?’ asked the young Western lord, under the influence of a little too much wine, but not quite drunk.

Jim held up his hand to silence him. ‘On instructions from the Prince of Krondor, the call has been sent to your father for the Western Muster.’

Phillip was half out of his seat at hearing that. ‘I must return to Crydee at once!’

‘Please, sit,’ said Jim. ‘You can’t find a ship until morning to get you to Salador, so abide a few moments longer.’

‘Why the muster?’ Tal asked. ‘I would not have thought the West was at much risk.’

‘The Prince, at the King’s direction, is being cautious. All forces in the West – the Principality, the Southern Marches, Yabon, and Crydee – are to muster.’ Jim sat back, obviously unhappy. ‘It’s what we don’t know that has us worried.’ Glancing at Hawkins, he said, ‘Our Western friends are probably not too current with the gossip from the Imperial Keshian Court.’

Hal said, ‘I suspect you’re not talking ladies’ fashions, as from what I hear, they hardly wear enough clothing to worry about such a thing.’ Seeing that his humour was falling flat, he sat back in his chair and said, ‘Sorry,’ to Ty’s obvious amusement.

Tal shook his head. ‘Just that there’s a growing faction within their ruling body, the Gallery of Lords and Masters, between some of the Trueblood, especially among the Masters of the Chariots and some generals of the Inner Legion.’

Phillip said, ‘If I know my history, it’s only about twenty years since the last time that alliance nearly plunged the Empire into civil war.’

Jim paused for a moment, before saying, ‘Correct. Tal, what else is being gossiped about in the halls of power?’ He was uncertain how much either man knew (and he was certain both boys were ignorant of) the true nature of the events Phillip referred to. An evil sorcerer by the name of Leso Varen had taken possession of the old Emperor’s body and almost destroyed the heart of Great Kesh. The story made public had been that Pug and other members of the Academy of Magicians at Stardock had hunted down a rogue spell-caster who had attempted to destroy the royal family.

Tal continued, ‘Most of what we hear seems to be the usual Keshian politics. The envoys to the Court of Roldem are much as you’d expect; Truebloods with ties to the Imperial Family, loyal beyond question to the Emperor, so what we hear over dinner is fairly much what you’d expect from those worthies.’ He looked at Jim. ‘Emperor Sezioti feels a debt to Pug and the Conclave, as well as having a much kinder perspective on the Kingdom for the aid that saved his family from Leso Varen.’

‘He does,’ said Jim. ‘However, not so many in the Gallery of Lords and Masters feel as the Imperials do. Remember, it’s been more than twenty years since Sezioti took the throne, and while his brother Dangai still commands the Inner Legions, outside the Imperials there are many of the Trueblood who seek to expand their power.’

‘But war with the Kingdom?’ asked Hal. ‘It makes no sense.’

‘On the surface,’ said Jim. ‘But there are two things that make me itch.’ He held up one finger. ‘A common enemy defuses internal conflict, and while the Emperor and his brother may feel some debt to the Kingdom for events long past, we’ve had more than enough bloodshed along the border, especially in the Vale of Dreams, to overwhelm those happier reminiscences.’ He held up a second finger. ‘They smell weakness. The Kingdom has never been more vulnerable.’

Tal let out a long sigh. ‘The King.’

‘Yes, the King. Gregory is weak. And while his father Patrick was hardly that, he was imprudent. He let his well-known temper bring him to insult Kesh on more than one occasion. So we’ve lacked a prudent ruler for many years.

‘Edward is a fine administrator, but the West has been almost forgotten in a generation, and …’ He sat back.

‘What?’ asked Hal, now alarmed. ‘You don’t expect Kesh to attack Crydee, certainly?’

‘We must prepare for all eventualities,’ said Jim.

Hal was suddenly focused, all hint of intoxication gone. ‘The muster will be kept close to home and no companies sent east until Krondor is threatened. Should we be attacked, Yabon will answer our call for reinforcements and Crydee’s forces will be sent to Yabon. Kesh would be foolish to sail up from Elarial and attack Tulan or Carse.’

‘You’ve a good military mind there, young Henry,’ said Jim. ‘But logic in war is often knowing things your enemy does not.’

‘We must be prepared,’ said Phillip, frowning. He had reached his limit of understanding. He might be a fine soldier and a decent tactician but complex strategy was beyond his area of expertise.

‘What makes you think Kesh might strike in the West?’ asked Tal.

Choosing his words carefully, for only a handful of men in the Kingdom really understood his true role in the affairs of the Kingdom, Jim said, ‘I am led to believe there are large mobilizations of forces in the South, including garrisons in the Keshian Confederacy.’ The Confederacy was a large region of tribal lands, city states, and loose alliances dominated and controlled by Kesh for centuries, though they had never been fully pacified.

‘Can they draw forces from the garrisons in the Confederacy?’

‘Normally, no,’ answered Jim. An expression of concern crossed his face for a moment before it became unreadable once more.

‘The nations of the Confederacy are constantly in one of two conditions: open rebellion against the Empire, or planning the next rebellion. Those legions are vital for the stability of the southern third of the Empire. Without them, the Confederates would sweep north and occupy as much Imperial land as possible.’

Ty glanced at his father, then asked Jim, ‘Why? I mean, if the Empire pulls its forces out of the Confederacy, wouldn’t the people in the Confederacy just ... let them go away?’

Jim forced a smile. ‘Not much Keshian history in your education, eh?’ He turned serious again. ‘If you were to ride through that region, Ty, you’d find yourself in a miserable land.’

He put his hands together and formed a circle, thumbs pointing upward, an inch apart. ‘Imagine this is the Confederacy. Across the top of the circle lie two ranges of mountains forming the Girdle of Kesh: the western, longer half is called the Belt.’ He wiggled his right thumb. ‘The shorter, eastern half is the Clasp.’ He wiggled his left thumb. ‘There are two towns on the north of the Girdle, Lockpoint and Teléman. Neither is rightly a town, more like very large garrisons with civilians to support them. Their task is to keep murderous hordes of very angry Confederates from sweeping north through the only major pass, between the Belt and the Clasp.

‘To the east of what passes for arable land is the Drahali-Kapur desert. To the west the Dragon Mere swamplands, and south an arid, rolling plain leading to more mountains, swamps, and woodlands aptly named the Forest of the Lost, because no one who’s ever ventured in there has come back to tell us what’s in there. As for the plains, they’re hardly useful: thin topsoil and little water, except when it’s storm season and everything is under three feet of water for a month.

‘In short, the people who reside in the Confederacy would prefer to live just about anywhere else in the world but on their own land. But, and here you see the perverse nature of humankind in fullest flower, they’ll happily kill one another over who gets to squat on which miserable piece of land. There’s one town on a rocky peninsula called Brijané, home to the Brijaner sea raiders. The Imperial treasury pays them handsomely not to build ships to transport people north from the Confederacy. And they pretty much hate everyone else down there, especially the Ashunta horsemen.

‘But the one thing that keeps the mountain people from killing the flatlanders, the flatlanders from killing the swamp raiders and everyone from killing the desert-men is a universal hatred of the Empire. That’s what binds them together.’

Jim looked off into the distance for a moment, thinking, then said, ‘No, I cannot begin to imagine how Kesh could strip her southern garrisons for a war in the north. Yet …’

‘Doesn’t the King have agents in Kesh?’ Hal asked.

Jim glanced at Tal and then said, ‘It is rumoured so.’ He shrugged. ‘But information is scant and unreliable.’

‘Well, then,’ said Hal. ‘We’ll just have to be ready for whatever Kesh brings.’ He didn’t sound like a young man exhibiting false bravado, but rather a thoughtful future leader of men.

Jim studied him for a moment, then glanced around. ‘It’s getting late and I must get to bed soon, for there’s a full day of diplomatic nonsense I must endure before tomorrow’s gala.’ Everyone stood, and Jim said, ‘Hal, if I might request something.’

‘Sir?’

‘Do not return to the university tonight. With the hour late and stirrings of trouble in the air, I would sleep better knowing you are safe. You may be distant kin to his majesty, but you are still kin and I would feel a personal responsibility should anything happen to you while I was in this city.’

Tal said, ‘We have extra rooms for those rare occasions when a patron is not safe to go home. The bedding is fresh. Ty, show our two guests to their rooms.’

‘You can travel to the university in the morning,’ said Jim, ‘as you must look your best tomorrow evening.’ To Phillip, he said, ‘Feel free to return to your duke, tomorrow, Swordmaster. Until certain matters here in Roldem are resolved, I will personally undertake to look after young Lord Henry’s well-being. Rest assured, and please let his father know this is the case.’

‘I will, sir. Then goodnight, gentlemen,’ said Swordmaster Phillip.

Ty led the two guests upstairs. When they were out of earshot, Tal said, ‘What’s really going on down there, Jim?’

While not close, the two men knew each other well enough that Tal knew Jim was very high up in the King’s court, a much more important man than his rank indicated. He also knew Jim was in charge of the King’s intelligence service. And each knew the other had served the Conclave in the past.

‘I don’t know, Tal, and that’s the gods’ truth. What has me concerned is that all my reports from north of the Girdle are routine: everything in the Empire itself is calm. But all my agents south of the Girdle have gone silent.’

‘Silent?’

‘I haven’t had a report from anyone in the Confederacy in three months. The two men I’ve dispatched to see why have yet to return or report.’

‘Now I understand your worry.’

‘There’s something going on down there, and there are strange reports coming from the Imperial Court. There’s a faction of the Gallery of Lords and Masters that is almost outright calling for war against the Kingdoms.’

‘Kingdoms?’

‘Roldem as well as the Isles.’

‘Are they mad? Roldem’s fleet alongside the Isles would sweep every Imperial ship from the ocean. The Quegans would love an excuse to sack Durbin and Elarial in the West.’

‘They are not mad,’ said Jim, tapping his cheek absently as if goading himself to think. ‘But if it’s true this makes no sense.’

‘What else?’ asked Tal.

‘You don’t miss much, do you?’

‘My people are taught at a very early age to be observant, and the Conclave put me through some rigorous training.’ With a small smile he said, ‘Why do you think I get so few invitations to play cards?’ Then his features grew solemn once more. ‘You hid it well, but there’s something you didn’t tell young Lord Henry.’

‘The Prince is worried as to what might occur should Crydee be ordered to reinforce Krondor. It’s a small enough army – the smallest in the West – and there’s a lot of territory to protect.’

‘Protect?’ Tal’s gaze narrowed. ‘If the attack is on Krondor, you don’t expect a simultaneous assault on the Far Coast, surely?’

‘Not from Kesh.’

‘Then from whom?’

Jim shook his head. ‘Just suffice it to say the Prince is not sanguine about Crydee’s neighbours.’

For a moment, Tal was confused. ‘The Free Cities …?’ Then comprehension dawned. ‘The elves?’

‘The Star Elves, in particular. We’ve had a long and peaceful relationship with those in Elvandar, but these newcomers …’ Jim fell silent. After a long moment he went on, ‘I don’t know what to tell you. They’ve made no hostile act, yet they are aloof and we get reports now and again of people wandering near their borders disappearing, never to be seen again. They’ve come to some sort of understanding with the dwarves to their south, but as I understand it, friendship is hardly the word. They are an unknown quantity, and unknowns make me very nervous.’

‘What do you hear from Pug?’

‘Nothing,’ said Jim. ‘If the Conclave has heard rumours of war, they are not sharing them with me. Besides, Pug has always said he will not become involved in matters of national conflict again.’

Talwin was silent as he thought about this, then said, ‘He might if such a war would weaken us enough to be unable to withstand another assault … like the Dasati.’

Both men fell silent. An entire world, Kelewan, had been destroyed in a barely repulsed attack by powerful forces from another plane of reality. And for more than ten years all members of the Conclave, active or not, had been asked to keep their ears open for any news of demon activity.

Jim said, ‘Perhaps I should presume to remind him of that?’

‘Perhaps,’ agreed Tal, ‘you should. I wonder what Pug is up to these days?’

Pug looked around the cave. Magnus held his hand aloft, using magic to create a bright light on the palm of his hand, which he moved around the room like a lantern. ‘We’re too late,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ said Amirantha. ‘What happened here happened more than a year ago.’

Amirantha’s companion, the old warrior Brandos, knelt, complaining, ‘Ah. My knees aren’t what they once were.’ He peered at the stones around the broken remnants of a wooden table. ‘Fair tore this place apart, it did.’

Looking at the Demon Master, Pug asked, ‘What do you think happened?’

Amirantha, Warlock of the Satumbria, considered the question. He was garbed in plainer fashion than he had affected when Pug had first met him. He was still vain enough to trim his beard daily and make sure his flowing dark hair was combed, but his florid robes with their golden and silver threading lay in a clothes chest at the old castle on Sorcerer’s Isle that served as the headquarters for the Conclave of Shadows. Unlike the mummery he had employed to flummox local nobles and convince them to pay him gold to chase away the very demons he summoned, his work with the Conclave had involved real danger and travelling under harsh conditions. Now he wore simple tunics and trousers and rugged leather boots.

After thinking about the question for a moment, Amirantha said, ‘I think the object of our search conducted his last summoning here.’ He pointed to a distant corner and Magnus turned his hand in that direction, throwing light upon it.

The tall, white-haired magician, Pug’s sole surviving child, moved closer until they could see clearly what Amirantha had noticed. Outlined more darkly than the rock against which it lay was the form of a man, crouching. Brandos ran his hand over the surface of the cave wall. ‘It’s as if he was turned to ash and pounded into the rock itself.’

The old fighter had been with Amirantha for most of his life, having been a boy when the Warlock had taken him under his care. Now looking older than his mentor, he turned to face Pug and the others. ‘I’ve seen this before, but I can’t remember where.’

‘I do,’ said Amirantha. ‘Years ago, when you were a child, it happened at one of the very first summonings you were party to, remember?’ When it became clear that Brandos didn’t, he prompted, ‘The cat?’

‘Oh!’ responded Brandos as comprehension dawned. ‘Yes, the cat!’

Amirantha said, ‘When Brandos was a child and came to live with me, I thought having a boy along would make me look even more credible as I came to rid a town or village of a demon. After all, what sort of mountebank would lovingly care for a child?’

‘Your kind,’ said Brandos with a rueful smile.

‘The cat?’ prompted Pug.

‘Yes, the cat. It’s a long tale, but the part that applies here is that my friend, when he was a boy, managed to interrupt one of my summonings at the worst possible moment. He was annoying a cat we had around the house and it fled into my chamber … well, instead of the tractable creature I expected, one showed up I’d never seen before or since. A massive winged monster that spewed fire of an incredible heat.’

‘Nearly burnt the entire house down,’ added Brandos. Pug and Magnus could tell the story had been told enough times that it had become one of those family lore events that was treasured as much for the entertainment value as it had caused outrage and consternation at the time it had happened.

‘Unfortunately for the cat, but fortunately for me, the creature’s attention seem drawn to movement. I was motionless, in the midst of my summoning, while the cat was scampering, stopping only long enough to hiss at the demon.

‘The demon made short work of it, and I was able to banish it back to the demon realm, but not before, as Brandos said, a rather large fire had broken out in my chambers.

‘When we went back the next day to see what might be salvaged, the outline of the cat could clearly be seen against the wall, much as you see here.’

‘Another accident?’ asked Pug, his brow furrowing. ‘Or another attempt by those behind the Demon War to destroy anyone who might eventually oppose them?’

Looking around the cave, Amirantha said, ‘We can only speculate.’

Pug’s frustration was surfacing. Since the advent of demon incursions into Midkemia, and especially after the events several years earlier at the abandoned Keshian fortress above the Valley of Lost Men, he was balked at every turn as he attempted to understand what was threatening his world. Something unprecedented was occurring in the demon realm, which Pug and his companions referred to as the Fifth Circle, and while evidence of that upheaval and its potential danger to Midkemia was scant and infrequent, Pug knew that even though the Demon King Dahun had been destroyed attempting to enter this realm, they were still far from safe.

In fact, one topic of conversation revisited on a regular basis with the Warlock was what could cause a powerful demon lord to flee from that realm into this one; not coming at the head of an army as had happened in the past, to conquer and destroy, but sneaking in disguised as a human, seeking to find a safe place to hide.

To hide from what?

That was always the question they were left with.

With a last look around the cave, Pug said, ‘Magnus?’

Understanding his father’s wishes, the younger magician motioned for the others to stand close to him and a moment later they were all back in the large entrance hall on Sorcerer’s Island.

It was early spring and the weather was still cold and damp. ‘Have you ever considered rebuilding that lovely villa?’ Brandos asked lightly.

Pug shot him a sharp glance. The remnants of the sprawling estate that had housed his school of magic had been the scene of his worst defeat at the hands of those seeking to destroy the Conclave, and it had cost him the lives of his wife, son, and daughter-in-law, as well as over two dozen students. The charred timbers and stones still standing were being quickly overgrown with vines and wild grasses. In not too many more years it would be difficult for anyone chancing on the site to recognize it as the once-proud home of a thriving community.

Without further comment Pug turned and walked away to speak with Jason, the magician who acted as the castle’s reeve, the man who was responsible for the fortification and those living within it while Pug and Magnus were absent.

Brandos glanced at Magnus who shrugged slightly. If the white-haired magician understood his father’s reason for keeping the villa abandoned, he wasn’t sharing it. At first it had simply been a matter of expediency, in case enemies were spying on them, suggesting that the Conclave had been destroyed and that only a few refugees were left huddling for safety in the old castle on the bluffs overlooking the Bitter Sea. Which, Brandos conceded silently to himself, wasn’t that far from the truth.

But the Conclave had endured, even thrived, though it was now scattered across the entire span of the world, with pockets of research and teaching located in isolated spots, while many who worked for the organization did so in the hearts of power, in various courts and capitals.

Amirantha watched Magnus follow his father and turned to his old companion. ‘You still have a knack for it, don’t you?’

‘Apparently,’ said Brandos. He let out a long sigh. ‘I’ve seen it before and I know you have. He’s hanging on by sheer will and there’s no joy in him.’

Amirantha took a moment, then looked around. ‘Could there be any joy here?’

Both men knew the answer already. They had supped with others from the Conclave here many times, a warm fire in the hearth, chatting about this and that, but on none of those occasions had there been anything close to a sense of celebration. When a child was born, it was somewhere else. When the great holidays of Midwinter Day or Midsummer Day, the Planting Celebration, or the Harvest Festival came along they were largely ignored save perhaps for a minor remark.

Of all in the Conclave, there was only a handful who resided permanently here in the castle. Among those who stayed were Amirantha, Brandos, and Brandos’s wife Samantha. Jason, the castle’s caretaker, Rose, his wife and a magician in her own right; and a very young apprentice, Maloc. And of course Pug and Magnus. There were always one or two others coming and going but those eight comprised the whole of the household of the castle.

Brandos said, ‘We’ve seen a lot here, but there’s more to this than just a man having trouble moving on after the death of his wife and son.’

Amirantha motioned for Brandos to follow him up the stairs leading to the tower room put aside for him. They passed the door into Brandos and Samantha’s quarters and the old fighter stopped briefly to put away his sword and shield and change out of his shirt. Then he followed his adopted father up to the topmost room.

Brandos said, ‘We could go back to Gashen Tor. Samantha misses the women from the village.’ The village was called Talumba and it was situated two days east of the city of Maharta, now the capital of the kingdom of Muboya. For an idle moment Amirantha wondered how Kaspar of Olasko was faring; he was the First Minister to the Maharaja of Muboya and had returned to serve his lord and master when they had finished with the demon gate business five years earlier.

‘No,’ said Amirantha. ‘But take Samantha and go for a visit. I think it would do both of you some good.’

‘What about you?’ asked Brandos, scrutinizing his foster-father for any sign of distress or sadness. The mood throughout this place tended towards melancholy and the Warlock was already a man given to dark introspection if given half a chance.

‘Actually, Gulamendis has invited me to visit him at E’bar.’

Gulamendis was another Demon Master, one of the taredhel, or Star Elves, and he and Amirantha had become friends, or as friendly as one of those arrogant creatures could be with a human. Their affinity stemmed from a ravenous curiosity about all things demon, and Gulamendis has spent close to a year in residence here before returning to the city built in the Grey Tower Mountains by his people.

‘Well, say hello for me,’ said Brandos. ‘Now, how do we get to Gashen Tor? Do you have one of those orb things, or is it a long sea voyage?’

‘I’ll ask Jason if he has one to lend.’

‘He may say no,’ answered Brandos. ‘Seems they’re breaking down and none of the artificers, even of Tsurani descent up in LaMut, know how to fix them or make new ones.’

Amirantha frowned. ‘I would have thought after all these years Pug would have seen to that.’

A voice from the door said, ‘I know a great deal, Amirantha, but I don’t know everything.’

Brandos hadn’t heard the magician come up the stairs, and he stepped aside to let him into the room.

‘No disrespect intended, Pug.’

‘I know,’ said Pug. ‘I overheard a bit. So you’re going to visit the elves in E’bar?’

‘Overdue,’ said Amirantha. He motioned for Pug to take the chair by the small desk, while he sat on his bed. ‘We’re at something of a dead end. I’m not entirely sure what specifically you’re seeking, but each piece of information your agents turn up leads us to a dead end.’

‘Very dead, sometimes,’ said Brandos. Seeing his humour fall flat, he said, ‘I think I’ll go tell Samantha to pack up and we’ll talk about a visit home.’

‘Ask Magnus to take you and arrange a signal to fetch you back. You were right about the Tsurani orbs: we’re down to a scant few and need them for more pressing use.’

‘I understand. Thanks for lending us Magnus,’ said Brandos as he departed.

Amirantha watched him go. Then he looked over at the magician. ‘Pug, I don’t claim to know you well, but it has been over five years now. And I do know what a driven man looks like. I even share your sense of alarm over what we’ve discovered up to this point, but I detect an urgency in you that doesn’t seem entirely born out of what we know. What is it you’re not telling me?’

Pug’s face was immobile, though his eyes searched the Warlock’s face. ‘A time is coming, soon, when I will tell you things you will wish I had never told you.’ Then he got to his feet, turned away and hurried down the tower stairs.

Amirantha was left alone to reflect on this. He had a nasty feeling that what Pug had just said was almost certainly true.