Defiant Peaks (The Hadrumal Crisis) (72 page)

‘You are mistaken.’ As Sister Alebis skewered the magewoman with a look, Guinalle sat, deferring to the adept.

Sansem of Detich screamed and clutched her head. Inait of Noerut slumped forward onto the table, her face the colour of sour milk.

Trefet of Temosul sprang to his feet, his toppled chair crashing onto the dais. The wizard’s strength failed him and he collapsed to huddle on the floorboards, panting like a dog.

Dephad of Ontesk sat so frozen in his seat, eyes screwed shut, that Corrain was tempted to shove him, just to see if he was alive or unconscious.

Reson of Ancorr whimpered, lips bloodless as he gripped the sides of his seat with white knuckled hands.

Corrain felt his own palms sweating with apprehension. As he wiped them stealthily on his thighs, he met Kusint’s gaze. The Forest-born lad offered him an unobtrusive nod of encouragement and support.

‘May I ask,’ Yadres Den Dalderin was pale with trepidation, ‘what is amiss?’ He looked at the empty chair beside him. ‘What has happened to Master Raso of Fornet?’

Sister Alebis smiled. ‘There is no need to subject him to this demonstration. While our bodies remain in Halferan’s great hall under his watchful eye, our minds are now united in an aetheric construct. I see you are familiar with the term, Esquire,’ she noted thoughtfully.

‘You may not know that such Artifice bars wizards from all contact with their mageborn element. As you see, this can prove distressing. We will allow them to compose themselves.’

The edge in her words made that more a command that mere courtesy. Corrain saw the Soluran wizards struggle to gather their wits. He felt his own heart beat faster as he contemplated what was to come.

Sister Alebis contemplated the stricken wizards until she was satisfied that she had their full attention.

‘It is not Planir of Hadrumal who denies Solura quintessential magic,’ she told them coldly. ‘Your arrogance and folly have drawn the attention of the
sheltya
of the high peaks and their displeasure could have the gravest consequences for us all. This temporary aetheric confinement deprived of your magic is the mildest of the punishments which they could inflict.’

Her voice grew sterner still. ‘Since you have proved yourself irredeemably foolish, I will not ask if you believe me. I will show you proof.’

The gimlet eyed old woman looked at Corrain and he braced himself. He fixed his own gaze on Kusint at the other end of the dais.

He would never have agreed to this without seeing the Forest lad endure this Artifice first. Kusint had promised that the trial was nothing Corrain couldn’t endure, not after all he had suffered before. Hosh had shared every detail of his own experiences in Col’s adepts’ company. Both of them had sworn this would seem no more than a dream.

Corrain would have said more of a nightmare. He stood, unable to move, unable to speak, as recollection of all his encounters with the Mountain adepts flowed through his mind.

He had no notion how Sister Alebis was sharing his memories with the Soluran wizards but hearing their distant exclamations proved she was doing just that. His encounter with Aritane after her memories had been obliterated prompted particular consternation.

Finally, his mind’s eye lingered on the mage Despin’s body, collapsed in Hadrumal’s Council chamber. According to Jilseth, the wizard was slowly wasting away, lying senseless in his bed, despite Mentor Garewin’s ceaseless efforts to revive him.

A wail from Dephad of Ontesk told Corrain that the merciless old woman had shared that with the five mages as well.

When he feared he couldn’t stand it any longer, he felt himself suddenly released from her invisible bonds. He drew a deep, grateful breath and did his best to conceal the weakness in his knees.

Den Dalderin yelped as Gaveren Raso appeared beside him. The Fornet mage contemplated his stricken compatriots, not even trying to conceal his satisfaction at their suffering.

‘It would be a grave mistake,’ Sister Alebis remarked, ‘to think that Solura’s adepts don’t know the secrets of such Artifice. Rather, you should be grateful that learning aetheric magic is such a lengthy process. By the time we have perfected such Artifice, we are generally old enough to have acquired the wisdom not to use it.’

Guinalle rose to her feet again. ‘While I lack the honoured sister’s years, you would also be gravely mistaken if you underestimate Suthyfer’s adepts. You should also know that we are bound to Suthyfer’s mages by the closest ties of respect and affection.’

Corrain was impressed by how threatening such a mild-mannered woman could be, speaking so politely. The Suthyfer adept was more terrifying than Sister Alebis’s sword-belted companion still standing silently at the back of the dais.

‘Hadrumal has no wish to quarrel with any Soluran mages. Such conflict will cost everyone dear. But know this: if you insist on fighting, you will lose,’ Guinalle assured the five men and women, still whey-faced and trembling.

‘Very well.’ Sister Alebis looked across the table to Gaveren Raso. ‘I believe our business here is concluded.’

‘Forgive me, sister, not quite.’ Guinalle sat down and looked at Yadres Den Dalderin, who was sitting shocked into stillness, his expression haunted.

‘When you report what you have seen and heard here to your uncle and the Emperor, please be sure to remind them that the
sheltya
’s enquiry agent was in Ferl, asking after Baron Halferan at the same time as you. You should assume that your interest in this strife between Hadrumal and Solura’s wizards is known to the
sheltya
along with whatever motives you might fondly imagine were only known to you.

‘The Mountain adepts will now be well aware of the Tormalin Empire’s interest in renewing its knowledge and use of Artifice. If your own adepts are tempted to aspire to the aetheric enchantments which you have seen here today, remember the risks of attracting
sheltya
displeasure. May I recommend the same humility and circumspection in such studies as the mentors of Col and Vanam have always shown?’

She smiled amiably. ‘Not least because the continued cooperation of Suthyfer’s mages as Tormalin ships cross the ocean will depend on Suthyfer’s adepts’ agreement. We look forward to seeing Tormalin Artifice abide by the unselfish principles which we advocate.’

Yadres Den Dalderin slowly rose to his feet and bowed low, first to Guinalle, then to Sister Alebis, to Gaveren Raso and finally to Corrain. ‘You may rest assured that I will make certain that Tormalin’s Emperor understands what I have learned here today.’ He sat down heavily.

Corrain was impressed. He didn’t think he could have shown such composure at the lad’s age, not after witnessing such revelations.

‘Good.’ Gaveren Raso looked sternly at the five Soluran mages. ‘Now, go and tell your Orders how grateful they should be not to pay the penalties which your offences warrant.’

He smiled as the chastened renegades vanished in many-hued magelight and then disappeared himself.

Corrain looked uncertainly at Sister Alebis. ‘May I ask how you intend to get home?’

‘By way of Col by ship and then north to Selerima and the Great West Road.’ Her smile revealed an unexpected dimple in one soft cheek. ‘Your young friend Hosh has been telling me of his friends among the university’s mentors. I believe I can offer them some useful lore to improve their healing Artifice.’

‘I have business in Lescar,’ Guinalle told him. ‘Then I’ll travel to Bremilayne and take ship back to Suthyfer.’ She glanced at Den Dalderin. ‘I may call on Emperor Tadriol if there are any matters which he wishes to discuss.’

‘He will be honoured to receive you,’ the young nobleman assured her.

The Soluran swordswoman stirred at the back of the dais.

‘Yes?’ Corrain invited her to speak. He wanted to be certain that the day truly saw an end to Halferan’s dealings with magic.

‘May I ask when lunch is to be served?’

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-
S
EVEN

Trydek’s Tower, Hadrumal

27th of For-Spring

‘I
BELIEVE THAT’S
all we’ll usefully see today. Thank you for your scrying, Flood Mistress, and for your clairaudience, Cloud Master.’

Troanna waved a hand over the silver bowl and the vision of the manor’s great hall dissolved. ‘Can we trust what we have seen and heard?’

‘What would you suggest we do instead?’ Planir countered. ‘Shall we try trust, until we have reason not to?’

Rafrid looked across the sitting room table to Usara. ‘Your wife is a formidable woman. Should I offer congratulations or commiserations?’

Usara grinned. ‘I am very lucky.’

Jilseth was wondering what their son Darni might grow into, given such redoubtable parents.

Kalion cleared his throat. ‘I suggest that a mage of suitable rank visits the Tormalin Emperor for the Spring Equinox festival. He and Toremal’s great princes will have had time to reflect on Den Dalderin’s report by then.’

‘A good idea, Hearth Master.’ Planir nodded. ‘The
sheltya
said it was up to us to restore trust in wizardry across the mainland. We may as well start with the most influential people.’

Troanna snorted. ‘Meantime, I will continue restoring some order and habits of study in my hall and among those of my affinity.’

‘Quite so,’ Rafrid agreed with rare accord. ‘If you will excuse me, Archmage.’

He followed the Flood Mistress who was already halfway to the door.

Kalion lingered, looking sadly into the empty scrying bowl. ‘Let’s hope this is truly an end to such strife within wizardry.’

Jilseth wasn’t sure if he was talking to the Archmage, to her and Usara, or simply to himself. Before she could decide, Kalion heaved a sigh and departed without a further word.

Planir looked at Usara. ‘This whole business has him remembering Otrick.’

‘He’s not the only one.’ The Suthyfer mage paused, reflective, before a half smile lightened his solemn expression. ‘If you will permit me, Archmage, I will rejoin my wife.’

‘By all means.’ Planir urged him on with a gesture. ‘Offer her my thanks for enduring the discomforts of translocation to Halferan.’

‘Will you be travelling back to Suthyfer together?’ Jilseth couldn’t restrain her curiosity. ‘By road and sea?’

Usara grinned. ‘I have found such journeys offer unexpected pleasures. We can be too quick to use wizardry. We don’t realise what we might miss.’

Despite that, he vanished with the merest hint of golden magelight.

‘Is this really an end to it all?’

Jilseth looked at the Archmage. Planir smiled and the fine creases around his eyes deepened beguilingly.

‘You clearly have questions. Let’s see if I have answers.’

Jilseth followed him to the settles on either side of the fireplace. ‘I remembered, when we were linked through Usara’s spell, that you were born in Gidesta.’

‘Quite so,’ Planir agreed.

‘What did you know of the
sheltya,
before you came to Hadrumal?’ Jilseth had studied a map in Wellery’s Hall, contemplating the distances between the coal mining areas to the north and west of Inglis and that remote defiant peak. If she couldn’t recall what had happened to her, she knew precisely where she had recovered her mage senses.