"Sit down," he
commanded the other man, pointing to a chair. When Brescom continued to stand,
Blaise simply shrugged. "I thought at first that my failure might have
been due to being over-tired," he said without preamble. "But I am
now convinced that there is an arcane power residing in the castle which
prevented me from moving the ground beneath the walls. You said that arcane
means were used against you and your machines the other day, do you know who
wielded the power?"
"No," was the
monosyllabic response.
"You didn't see
anyone on the walls or towers?" Blaise probed.
"No."
"Whoever is using
arcane energies in the castle must be unusually strong to be able to resist a
House Power, so I don't think they've got just an arcane adept up there,"
he mused in a thoughtful voice.
"Why not?"
Brescom tried not to sound interested.
"Because arcane
adepts utilize what is called High Magic; the House Powers are based in what is
known as Old Magic," Blaise explained.
"How do you know
about this clap-trap?" Brescom was still in a contentious mood.
"I have
studied," was the vague reply. "And I do wield the House Power of
Tuenth," he added. Not wishing to have the earl ponder too long on where
and with whom he might have studied, Blaise went on. "Do you know if
anyone who is blood-related to House Langstraad is in the castle?"
"As far as I know,
the duke regent is the only relative of House Langstraad in there."
"It can't be
Hollin's cousin, he's from the distaff side, a de Medicat."
Brescom shook his head.
"In that case, there's no one. The late duchess only had two cousins on
her mother's side and I know for a fact that neither of them are in the
castle." His brow creased as he thought about what Blaise was asking.
Suddenly the lines vanished and a glint came into his eyes. "If you're
sure that this is House Magic, then I may be able to put a name to who's behind
it," he said. Blaise raised his eyebrows. "Creon's daughter, the
little chit that caused the scandal last spring in Pentarin, was married off to
Ian de Medicat earlier in the summer," he pronounced in smug tones.
"Damn! You're
right! That has to be the answer. It slipped my mind, but it is the logical
explanation." Blaise lost himself in his own speculations.
"What do you
intend to do, then?"
Blaise permitted
himself the slightest of smiles. By the tone of his question, it was evident
that Brescom was at least still open to his ideas. "Lady Idris and her
brats may be of use yet," he said to the earl.
"You think to
trade them for Creon's daughter?" Brescom stood, pondering the wisdom of
this move. "They might just go for it," he finally judged. "Lady
Idris is a vassal of Langstraad and very popular within the duchy. There will
be many, some fled from Morna itself, within the castle who will be eager to have
the lady and her children back. Creon's daughter, however, is newly come, and
not too popular from what I've heard. They even say that Lord Ian shuns her and
her bed. If this is so, they may not be over reluctant to let her go.
Still," he added after more thought, "if they trade her away, they
will no longer have the use of her powers to aid them."
Blaise thought on this.
"They might not even know that it is she who is resisting. Indeed, we
still don't know for sure. But we must do something, and if it turns out that
we get the girl and find that she is not the source of power, we still possess
a valuable hostage."
The earl nodded in
agreement. "Lord Niall might be well pleased to have Branwilde's daughter
at hand, should Branwilde prove recalcitrant. I will go and order the demand to
be drafted and delivered."
In the private study
that she had appropriated for her own use in Pentarin Palace, the Duchess of
Mirvanovir stood waiting anxiously while the shimmer before her eyes slowly
coalesced into a seemingly solid form. It was a complicated spell, rendered
more difficult since neither she nor he who cast it wanted its casting to be
detected. The figure, life-sized, emerged to not quite stand on the carpet in
front of her. Robes of deepest blue concealed his body, so that his head with
its long, pale face appeared to be floating by itself. Dark hair fell to his
shoulders, held in place by a thin circlet of silver that gleamed in the light
from where his true body stood. Black eyes, sharp and piercing, were set on
either side of a long, thin nose. The face could never be construed as handsome
or ugly, young or old, it was a face filled with craft and intelligence and
something that took it far beyond the ordinary.
"Greetings, Master
Malvasius," Rashara welcomed him.
"Greetings to you,
Rashara de Sharonnara." The lips of the image moved, but the voice sounded
only in her mind.
"Thank you for
answering my summons," she began.
"Why have you
called?" he asked, coming immediately to the point.
Used to his abruptness
and dislike of roundabout formalities, she replied briskly, "There are
questions that I would ask of you."
"And what would
you ask?" His face betrayed no emotion.
"Are Colin and his
wife still at the Scholastium?"
" Dinea has
remained here in sanctuary, but Lord Colin has hired a ship and is sailing for
Iscoed."
She tapped her foot,
her only gesture of concern. "When did he leave?"
"Two weeks
ago."
"The mage masters
still refuse to help him?" A look of calculated pleasure crossed her face
as she asked what she patently assumed to be a rhetorical question.
Folding his thin mouth
into the prim lines of a schoolmaster, Malvasius took to answer her. "As I
have explained to you, the Scholastium's charter strictly forbids interference
in the Pentarchy's affairs. Kyledyr has ordered that this injunction be
strictly obeyed by all members of the Scholastium. No one will come to Colin's
aid, though there are those who are sympathetic to his cause. Ciaran is
especially swayed in his direction."
"Will he actively
help him?"
"No, but I think
that he advises Colin to seek out a member of House Sandovar to petition for
our support."
Rashara shook her head
in negation of his words. "There are no members of House Sandovar! Prince
Brian is lost and not likely to ever return."
Faint lines of
amusement creased the corners of his mouth at her reaction. "Colin goes to
ask Gervase Iscoed to make the petition."
"What?"
Rashara's exterior poise wavered in her consternation. This possibility had not
yet occurred to her. When she had contacted her old master to discover the
whereabouts of the Viscount of Treves and his wife, Malvasius had told her of
their arrival and Urien's reply to their request for sanctuary and aid. She had
put the problem of the two noble adepts aside then, thinking them cornered in
Dacara for the time being, and concentrated on Blaise and the unlocking of his
inherent House Power. Like a cat hunting mice, she had assumed that they had
been run into a blind corner and was now very disconcerted to find that there
was a hole in that corner.
"If Ciaran has
done as much for them, does this mean you are equally free now to aid me?"
she asked with a sudden glimmer of hope.
He shook his head, the
dark hair swinging free. "Ciaran gave them advice, an idea, that is all.
He understands the neutrality issue, just as I do." The eyes were
implacable and she knew that it was hopeless to try to move him.
As a student at the
Scholastium, one of her instructors had been the mage master known as
Malvasius. For many years she had studied under him as well as other, more
advanced adepts, and the other mage masters. Malvasius had taken a special
interest in her, at first because she possessed an exceptional talent and
later, because she was willing to experiment with some of the darker aspects of
arcane knowledge that repelled or frightened the other students. She had never
understood all of the motivations that went into her relationship with
Malvasius. Her long years of association with him, though, had taught her that
while he might have private sympathies and even be willing to engage in
practices not wholly condoned by others of his brethren, he would never act
against the Scholastium or against the archmage.
Thoughtfully she paced
before Malvasius' image. "You will not take my side and aid me then?"
It was a great irritation to her, knowing that the mage master would
communicate with her but refused her his aid.
"There is no
choice." Neither relief nor sorrow could be detected in his reply.
"Tell me about Blaise of Tuenth?"
This abrupt change in
their conversation did not catch her off guard. She knew that one of the
reasons Malvasius continued to remain in contact with her after she left the
Scholastium was her marriage to Lord Niall. Malvasius had a fascination with
the House Powers and was interested in learning all he could about them. Over
the years, Rashara had loyally passed on what little she had been able to find
out from Niall. In her last exchange with Malvasius, Rashara had discussed
Blaise's latent abilities and how they might be unlocked. The mage master had
supplied her with some important information that he had come across in the
Scholastium's archives regarding the House Powers and, adding it to her own
observations, they had formulated a possible way to tap into the energies.
Malvasius' involvement was based solely on his personal quest for knowledge;
the politics and personal entanglements of the situation did not interest him
at all.
"He has proved an
apt pupil," Rashara remarked. "But then I have found him willing and
able to do many things. He pleases me well." She smiled provocatively at
Malvasius' image. Perhaps because the mage master had never evinced any amatory
feelings for her, Rashara took pleasure in occasionally flaunting her own
passions.
"He has left
Pentarin for Langstraad then?" As ever, Malvasius chose to ignore what did
not interest him.
Rashara laughed good
naturedly at his refusal to be baited. "He left over a week ago. I do not
think that he is in total command of his power, but he can wield it." A
sober look came over her features. "It was very tiring work to find and
release the potential in him. He was cooperative, but when I tried to work with
the power through his own mind it forced me to lose my link with him."
Malvasius nodded his
head, as if what she said affirmed some supposition of his own. "From my
studies and what you have told me, I deem the House Gifts, or Powers, to be
exceptionally hazardous. I wish that you had not let him go. It would have been
better for you to have continued to keep him under observation."
"Well, he has
gone," she replied tartly. "Need I remind you that we are engaged in
a war to secure the throne? If you had seen fit to join us, you could have kept
him under observation yourself."
"I can't, and I
won't, and there is an end to it." There was an icy quality to the mental
voice. "I must return to my duties here. Contact me when Blaise of Tuenth
returns. Until then, you are on your own. Good-bye to you, Rashara de Sharonnara."
The image began to fade and dissolve as he broke the spell.
"And to you Master
Malvasius," she intoned wearily. When the link was completely severed,
Rashara went to slump dejectedly in a chair. She had not thought that Malvasius
would actively aid her, but she had hoped for more from him. Ciaran had taken a
less than completely neutral step in suggesting that Colin work through Gervase
Iscoed to gain the help of the Scholastium. All Malvasius was interested in was
her personal experience with a House Power, first through Niall and now through
Blaise. She found herself growing annoyed with what she perceived as Malvasius'
attitude of non-reciprocity. He was free to use her to find out what he wished
to know, but she was not to ask him for the help that she wanted.
Standing up, she
prowled about the room, her hands holding her arms tightly to her body, as she
considered her dilemma. There was a chance that Colin would never make it to
Iscoed. He could be lost at sea or fall victim to corsairs from the Scillarin
Isles. However, it was also reasonable to assume that he might make it safely
to Iscoed, convince Gervase and return to gain the support of the Scholastium.
If Niall succeeded in taking and holding both Creon and Langstraad, they might
be able to ward off the mage masters by argument of the right of possession. If
they were still engaged in civil war though, things might be very different.
Rashara knew the power that the mage masters commanded and she was daunted by
the idea of openly opposing them. Perhaps all of the Heads of the Great Houses
standing together might match them, but what could she alone, even with the aid
of Blaise and Niall, do to prevent the mage masters from forcing them out of
power and installing that great idiot Gervase on the throne?
For the remainder of
the night, Rashara alternately walked and sat, trying to find a counter that
would tip the scale of power in her direction. She came to the conclusion that
even if Colin failed in his mission, she still had to find a way to best Niall
once he had disposed of Branwilde of Creon. As the hours went by, the seed of
an idea began to grow in her mind. At first she recoiled from it as if the
serpent it might become lay before her. But the more she considered, the more
seduced by it she became. Her years of study into arcane matters had revealed
areas of power that existed outside the structure of space and time that held
the world together. They were seldom tapped into since much skill and power
were needed to grant access to them and the price for using them could be high.
Rashara deemed that the stakes she was now playing for warranted a certain
gamble on her side.