The Exile and the Sorcerer (41 page)

To Jemeryl’s mind, Chenoweth was little more than an overrated witch, and she could not believe that Iralin would think him important enough to inform of the actions taken over the reports, but equally, he would be quite able to draw his own conclusions when he learnt that she was bound for Lyremouth. It was a safe bet that his response would be both smug and vindictive. Jemeryl chewed her lip, trying to work out the most tactful way of dealing with the situation.

Klara hopped onto her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Just give him a quick summary of the relevant facts.”

“Which are?”

“That he’s an interfering arsehole who pays too much attention to the ramblings of morons.”

Klara’s suggestions were rarely helpful.

*

The guild master’s massive forearms were laced with a network of scars. He crossed them in front of his barrel chest. “And you’re quite certain you haven’t anything else you’d like to declare?”

“No, sir.”

On the other side of the desk, Tevi stood sullenly at attention. In the hour since arriving at the guildhall, she had come to realise that Jemeryl’s warning was well founded. The guild master had insisted she repeat her story four times, while his attitude had grown progressively more hostile. He clearly did not believe a word she said. For her part, Tevi was forming an intense dislike of the man.

The guild master gave her a long, hard stare. The only sound came from one corner of the room, where another guild official was rummaging suspiciously through the contents of Tevi’s pack.

“Why didn’t you complete your contract?”

“Trader Harrick agreed he didn’t need me once we’d got over the mountains.”

“Your contract said you would stay with him until Rizen. What gave you the right to change its terms?”

“By mutual consent, a contract may be amended.”

“Don’t quote the rules at me,” the guild master bellowed. “I was living by them before you were born. Amendment of contract is only allowed in exceptional circumstances.”

Tevi would have laid money he had been a bully as a child. “The lives of Protectorate citizens were at—” Her words were interrupted by urgent rapping on the door.

“What is it now?” the guild master shouted.

An apprentice poked her head in nervously. “There’s a sorcerer to see you, sir. She says it’s about the new arrival.”

Tevi greeted the announcement with a sigh of relief. The effect on the guild officials was far more dramatic. They both froze with blank expressions of confusion while their eyes shifted from the messenger to Tevi and then to each other.

The guild master was the first to recover. “Don’t stand there gawking. Show her up immediately.” As the door closed, his glare fixed on Tevi. “I suppose you think this is your
friend
?”

Tevi felt herself blush at the emphasis on the word ‘friend’. “Yes, sir. Jemeryl said she’d meet me here.”

“Still sticking to your story? Well, maybe now we’ll get to the truth.”

Despite his continued belligerence, the guild master was noticeably unsettled. He got to his feet and stood, adjusting the set of his clothes and tightening his belt. As footsteps sounded outside, he combed his thinning hair with his fingers in a last nervous effort at personal grooming.

Suddenly, Tevi understood what the guild master had meant when he stressed the word “friend.” An immense social gulf existed between a junior mercenary and a Coven sorcerer. In the castle, Jemeryl had insisted on acting like equals, but the rest of the world would not see them as such.

Tevi realised that referring to Jemeryl in terms more appropriate for a friend than a superior had prejudiced the guild master against believing her story from the start. Claiming that the Coven took an interest in her quest for a family heirloom had not helped. Judging by his reaction, the guild master had not even believed that Jemeryl existed. Now he evidently expected to have Tevi’s account revealed as distortion, if not outright lies. However, Tevi did not have long to think things through. The door opened, and both guild officers bowed stiffly as Jemeryl swept into the room.

“How may we assist you, ma’am?” The guild master’s combative tones were replaced by starched politeness.

Jemeryl did not answer immediately. Her gaze travelled very deliberately around the room. Tevi guessed that her own face held an expression of aggrieved irritation. Jemeryl could add it to the guild master’s officiousness and his colleague’s edgy sideways glances. Reading the situation would not be hard.

Jemeryl’s eyes finished up fixed on the guild master. “Thank you, but my business is with Tevi.” Her manner was condescending.

“On that subject, I’m pleased you’ve arrived, ma’am. There has been a little confusion. W—”

Jemeryl cut him off. “Confusion? Didn’t Tevi explain?”

“We’ve had a version of events, but we’re unsure of the accuracy. If—”

“You’re surely not calling my friend’s honesty into question?”

The guild master’s eyes bulged in surprise. “Er...well...no, ma’am.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“It’s...we...” The guild master swallowed.

In the resulting silence, Jemeryl turned to Tevi. “You told them I want you to accompany me?” She sounded coldly offended.

“I’ve tried to.”

Jemeryl looked back to the guild master.

“Um...no, ma’am. There’s no problem.”

Tevi was starting to feel uncomfortable. She had hoped that Jemeryl’s arrival would resolve the situation with the minimum of fuss; but Jemeryl was clearly playing at baiting the guild master. Having recently been subjected to bullying, Tevi was unhappy to see it continued, even though her tormentor was the one currently on the spot. Yet despite her qualms, there was a point that had to be cleared up.

“They’ve refused me permission to leave town,” Tevi said quietly.

“They’ve said what!”

“Ma’am, we didn’t—” The guild master tried to get his explanation in.

Jemeryl spoke over him. “You told them we’re on Coven business?”

“They said I had to stay here, regardless of who wanted me.” Tevi tactfully refrained from quoting verbatim.

The guild master flinched.

Jemeryl stared at him. “You question my authority to claim Tevi’s services?”

“No, ma’am. Of course not.”

“But you won’t let her come with me?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. But we didn’t want her running off without authorisation.”

“You want me to sign a contract for her employment? Of course, you are quite within your rights to do so.”

While in Lyremouth, Tevi had been told that the Coven would only be asked for formal contracts in exceptional circumstances. When working for a sorcerer, the guild reimbursed its member from its own coffers. Tevi had not understood the ramifications, only that it was an indiscretion even to suggest charging the Coven. Despite this, Jemeryl held out her hand as if waiting to be passed a pen.

“Please, that won’t be necessary. I’ll sort out all requisite details.” The guild master was half an inch from grovelling.

Jemeryl treated him to a glare that could have stripped the varnish off his desk. “So what is all this nonsense about?”

“We were just a little confused, ma’am. Your...friend’s story was...unusual. We couldn’t see why you’d need her services.”

“You’re surely not calling on me to account for my reasons?”

Tevi felt sorry for the guild master as he floundered in the face of the sorcerer’s determination to put the worst interpretation on his every word.

“Oh, no, ma’am. There’s been a misunderstanding. Your companion can leave at once.”

The guild master clearly had the sense to realise that anything he might say would only make things worse. Both officials fumbled in their haste as they shoved Tevi’s belongings back into her pack. In next to no time, the two women were outside on the street. Tevi had even been given back her pony. The guild master had personally promised to pay for it.

*

Night had fallen while Tevi had been in the guildhall. The streets were deserted, and the rain had turned to sleet. Jemeryl created a small light globe and urged her pony forward. Its hooves splashed though the puddles dotting the wet cobbles. Tevi rode in silence, relieved to be out of the guildhall but deeply uneasy as she considered the events since arriving in Rizen and the consequences of Jemeryl’s rank. Alone together in the castle, it had not mattered. They had become friends, without deference or superiority, and then lovers. Could this familiarity continue? Would Jemeryl want it to? Tevi found herself wondering just how Jemeryl saw their relationship.

Chenoweth had recommended an inn, a prosperous establishment, well situated in the centre of town. He had apparently also sent word to the innkeeper, since despite the weather, a member of the staff was waiting for them in the open yard. The stable hand rushed forward to assist the women, although once he had established which one was the sorcerer, Tevi received only cursory attention. She stepped back under the shelter of an overhanging roof and waited, studying Jemeryl.

Instead of her usual impish grin, Jemeryl’s expression was aloof. She hardly spared a glance for the sodden stable hand. Her voice was a crisp monotone, leaving no doubt that she expected her instructions to be obeyed. Tevi’s jaw clenched. It was hard to see any resemblance to the woman who had become her lover.

The ponies were left in the care of the stable hand, and two porters arrived to carry the baggage. Before Jemeryl and Tevi had reached the entrance, the door was pulled open by an anxious innkeeper. The lively hubbub of voices in the taproom, clearly audible from the stable yard, dropped to a hushed mumbling as Jemeryl stepped inside.

“We’d like a room for the night.” Jemeryl’s voice was cold.

“Yes, of course, ma’am. We’re just having our best suite made ready.” The innkeeper was clearly torn between nervousness and pride at his prestigious customer. His hands fidgeted with the cloth of his apron.

In Tevi’s opinion, there was an excessive amount of fuss as they were led upstairs and along a wide hallway. The room they finally entered was large and elegantly furnished. Rich tapestries hung on the walls. The floorboards were scarcely visible between the rugs. Half a tree was burning in the huge fireplace. Opposite the entrance was a bay window that, in daylight, would command views over the river. Doors on either side gave access to further rooms.

The innkeeper stood anxiously as the sorcerer examined the accommodation.

“These are your best rooms?” Jemeryl’s neutral tone could have implied anything.

“You are welcome to inspect any of the others.”

“Don’t you know which are your best rooms?”

“Y-y-yes, ma’am. These are. I’m afraid they’re due for redecoration, but—”

Jemeryl held up a hand. “It will be satisfactory.”

“Is there anything else you require, ma’am?”

“A bath before we eat. That will be all.”

The innkeeper bowed and backed out. The second the door closed, Jemeryl’s autocratic air vanished in her familiar grin. “Well, what do you think of it?” she asked with a sweep of her arms.

Tevi had been standing awkwardly at one side. She hesitantly left the position and wandered towards the fire. Her eyes shifted uneasily, taking in the whole room with the exception of the spot where Jemeryl was standing.

Jemeryl’s exuberance softened into sympathy. “Were they giving you a hard time in the guildhall? I could tell as soon as I walked in that something was up.”

“It’s not that.”

“What’s wrong, Tevi?”

Tevi ran her hand over a long couch, fingering the embroidered fabric. “How much will it cost to stay here?”

“We won’t have to pay. If I’m asked, I’ll sign a receipt that the innkeeper can offset against his taxes, but I doubt that he will. It’s taken as a sign of poverty to charge the Coven. Besides, he’ll make it back. Saying that these rooms were good enough for a sorcerer will let him put two shillings on the price.”

Tevi slumped onto a chair. Her eyes were fixed on the thick rug by her feet.

“What’s upsetting you?” Jemeryl’s voice betrayed growing confusion. “It’s not really the money, is it?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“It’s the way you behave with ordinary folk.”

“The way I what?”

“The way you trample over people.”

“I don’t.”

“You do. Not just in taking it for granted that you could have the best rooms free of charge. You were deliberately intimidating the innkeeper. You didn’t even act grateful.”

“It’s the innkeeper who should be grateful to me,” Jemeryl blazed. “I told you he’ll recoup his money. Apart from that, ungifted citizens owe their prosperity to the Coven. Without us, they’d be living in mud huts, at the mercy of any magic-wielding tyrant.”

Tevi was shaken by the angry outburst. But, instead of responding in kind, her manner was even more subdued as she said, “I know what the Coven does for people and I know all about poverty. On the islands, we worked from dawn to dusk. We regularly went cold and hungry. We saw one child in four die before its first birthday. And that was in the Queen’s household.”