The High Lord (4 page)

Dannyl smiled and felt a glow of affection as he climbed out to greet his friend and lover. Tayend’s bow was respectful, but was followed by a familiar grin.

“You took your time getting here, Ambassador,” he said.

“Don’t blame me. You Elynes should have built your city closer to the library.”

“Now there’s a good idea. I’ll suggest it to the King next time I attend court.”

“You never attend court.”

“That’s right.” Tayend smiled. “Irand wants to speak to you.”

Dannyl paused. Did the librarian already know about the matters covered in the letter Dannyl had just received? Had he received a similar letter himself?

“What about?”

Tayend shrugged. “I think he just wants to chat.”

They entered a corridor, then climbed a flight of stairs to a long narrow room. Mullioned windows dominated one side of the room, and groups of chairs were arranged informally along the length of the hall.

An elderly man sat in one of the closest chairs. As he began to push himself up out of it, Dannyl waved a hand.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Librarian.” He dropped into a chair. “How are you?”

Irand’s shoulders lifted slightly. “Well enough for an old man. Well enough. How are you, Ambassador?”

“Good. There isn’t much work at the Guild House at the moment. A few testings, a few minor disputes, a few small parties. Nothing overly time-consuming.”

“And Errend?”

Dannyl smiled. “The First Guild Ambassador is as cheerful as ever,” he replied. “And most relieved to have me out of his way for the day.”

Irand chuckled. “Tayend tells me your research is going nowhere.”

Dannyl sighed and glanced at Tayend. “We could read every book in the library on the odd chance we might find something new, but we would need several lifetimes or a hundred assistants.”

While Dannyl had first started researching ancient magic at Lorlen’s request, he had himself become intrigued by the subject. Akkarin had begun a similar search, long before he became High Lord, which had kept him roaming the lands for five years. He had returned empty-handed, however, and Dannyl had initially assumed Lorlen had asked him to retrace Akkarin’s steps in order to gift his friend with some of the information he had lost.

But six months later, after Dannyl had travelled to Lonmar and Vin, Lorlen had abruptly informed Dannyl that he no longer needed the information. At the same time, Rothen had suddenly gained an interest in the same subject. This strange coincidence, and Dannyl’s own growing fascination with the mysteries of ancient magic, had encouraged Dannyl and Tayend to continue.

Akkarin had eventually learned of Dannyl’s project and ordered him home to report. To Dannyl’s relief, the High Lord had been pleased with his work, though he had ordered Dannyl and Tayend to keep their strangest discovery, the Chamber of Ultimate Justice, a secret. The chamber, which they had found under the ruins of a city in the Elyne mountains, had contained a magically charged ceiling of stones that had attacked Dannyl, and nearly killed him.

How it worked was a mystery. After Dannyl had returned to reseal the entrance, he had searched the Great Library in vain for a reference to it. Clearly it used a form of magic unknown to the Guild.

“I suspect I’d find out more if I went to Sachaka,” Dannyl added, “but the High Lord denied my request to journey there.”

Irand nodded. “A wise decision. You can’t be sure how well you’d be received. There’s sure to be magicians there. Though they would not be as skilled as you and your colleagues, they would pose a danger to a lone Guild magician. After all, the Guild left much of their land wasted. There’s bound to be some lingering resentment for that. So what will you do now?”

Dannyl drew a folded letter from his robes and gave it to Irand. “I have a new task to perform.”

The librarian hesitated as he saw the remains of the High Lord’s seal, then opened the letter and began to read.

“What is it?” Tayend asked.

“An investigation,” Dannyl replied. “It seems some nobles in this land are trying to start their own rogue Guild.”

The scholar’s eyes widened, then his expression became thoughtful. Irand drew in a breath and looked at Dannyl over the page.

“So he knows.”

Dannyl nodded. “It appears so.”

“Knows what?” Tayend asked.

Irand handed the letter to Tayend. The scholar began to read aloud.

”
I have been watching for some years the efforts of a small group of Elyne courtiers to learn magic without the Guild’s aid or knowledge. Only recently have they had some success. Now that at least one of them has managed to develop his powers, the Guild is entitled and obliged to deal with them. I have included information on this group with this letter. You will find your relationship with the scholar, Tayend of Tremmelin, helpful in persuading them that you can be trusted.’ “

Tayend paused and stared at Dannyl. “What does he mean by that?” he exclaimed.

Dannyl nodded at the letter. “Read on.”

”
‘It is possible the rebels will try to use this personal information against you once you have arrested them. I will ensure that it is understood that I asked you to give them this information in order to achieve your goal’ “

Tayend stared at Dannyl. “You said he didn’t know about us. How
can
he know? Or has he just listened to the rumors and taken a chance that they might be true?”

“I doubt it,” Irand replied. “A man like the High Lord does not take chances. Who else have you allowed to know of your relationship?”

Tayend shook his head. “There is no one else. Unless we have been overheard…” He glanced around.

“Before we start hunting for spies, there is one possibility we should consider,” Dannyl said. He grimaced and rubbed his temples. “Akkarin has some unusual abilities. For the rest of us, there are limits to mind reading. We can’t read an unwilling mind, and we must touch another person to be able to read them at all. Akkarin once searched the mind of a criminal to confirm his guilt. The man should have been able to block him, yet somehow Akkarin got past his mental barriers. Some magicians believe Akkarin can even read minds at a distance.”

“So you suspect he read your mind when you were in Kyralia?”

“Maybe. Or maybe he did when he ordered me to return to the Guild.”

Irand’s eyebrows rose. “While you were in the mountains? That he can read minds at such a distance is extraordinary.”

“I doubt he could have if I had not answered his call.

Once contact is established, however, he might have been able to see more than I intended.” Dannyl nodded at the letter. “Read on, Tayend. There is one more paragraph.”

Tayend looked down at the letter. ”
‘Your assistant has encountered these rebels before. He ought to be able to arrange an introduction.’
How could he possibly know
that?”

“I hoped you could tell me.”

The scholar frowned down at the letter. “Everyone in Elyne has a secret or two. Some you talk about, some are best kept to oneself.” He glanced at Dannyl and Irand. “A few years ago I was invited to a secret party by a man named Royend of Marane. When I declined, he assured me it wasn’t what I thought, that there’d be no, ah, indulgences of the flesh or the mind. He said it would be a scholarly gathering. But his manner was furtive, and I took that as a warning and didn’t attend.”

“Did he give any hints that he was offering magical knowledge?” Irand asked.

“No, but what other scholarly pursuits would ever need to be kept hidden? It is no secret that I was once offered a place in the Guild, but declined. And my inclinations are well known.” He glanced at Dannyl. “So he knows I had magical ability, and could guess at my reasons for not accepting the robes.”

Irand nodded. “The High Lord probably knows this, too. It makes sense that these rebels approach all who decline or are refused entry into the Guild.” He paused and looked at Dannyl. “And while Akkarin clearly knows the truth about you, he has not recalled or denounced you. Perhaps he is more tolerant than the average Kyralian.”

A chill ran down Dannyl’s spine. “Only because I am useful to him. He would have me risk much for the sake of finding these rebels.”

“A man in his position must be willing to use those that serve him,” Irand said sternly. “You chose to be a Guild Ambassador, Dannyl. Your role is to act on behalf of the High Lord in matters that are the domain and responsibility of the Guild. Sometimes carrying out that role means taking risks.

Let’s hope this task risks only your reputation, and not your life.”

Dannyl sighed and bowed his head. “You’re right, of course.”

Tayend chuckled. “Irand’s always right, except when it comes to cataloguing meth—” He grinned as the librarian turned to glare at him. “So I guess if the rebels thought Dannyl had reason to resent the Guild, they might consider him as a potential recruit, too.”

“And teacher,” Irand added.

Dannyl nodded. “And they would believe that if I proved uncooperative, they could blackmail me into silence by threatening to reveal my relationship with Tayend.”

“Yes. You must plan this carefully, however,” Irand cautioned.

They began to discuss ways to approach the rebels. Not for the first time, Dannyl was glad to have the librarian’s confidence. Tayend had insisted several months ago that they tell his mentor about their relationship, assuring Dannyl that he would trust Irand with his life. To Dannyl’s consternation, the old man hadn’t been at all surprised.

As far as Dannyl and Tayend could tell, the rest of the Elyne court still believed Dannyl was oblivious to, and certainly didn’t share, Tayend’s attraction to men. Rothen had told Dannyl that similar rumors had circulated in the Guild, but had been quickly forgotten. Despite this, Dannyl still feared that the truth about him would reach the Guild, and he would be stripped of his position and ordered home.

Which was why he had been shocked and angered by Akkarin’s request that he allow the rebels to find out the truth. It was difficult enough keeping his relationship with Tayend a secret. Allowing the rebels to know was a risk he did not want to take.

It was late when the knock came. Looking up from her desk, Sonea regarded the door of her room. Was it her servant bringing a late cup of hot raka? She lifted a hand, then stopped. Lord Yikmo, the Warrior who had trained her in preparation for the Challenge, always said a magician should avoid the habit of gesturing when using magic—it gave away a magician’s intent. Hands still, she now willed the door to open. Takan stood in the corridor beyond.

“My Lady,” he said. “The High Lord requests your presence in the library.”

She stared at him and felt her blood slowly turn cold. What did Akkarin want with her at this time of night?

Takan gazed at Sonea and waited.

Pushing her chair back, she rose and approached the doorway. As Sonea entered the corridor, Takan started toward the library. When she reached the door, she peered through.

A large desk stood at one side. The walls were covered in bookcases. Two large chairs and a small table were arranged at the center. Akkarin was sitting in one of the chairs. As she bowed, he gestured to the other, where a small book lay.

“This book is for you to read,” he said. “It will help you with your studies on the construction of buildings with magic.”

Sonea entered the room and approached the chair. The book was small, bound in leather and very worn. She picked it up and opened it. The pages were filled with faded handwriting. She read the first few lines and drew in a quick breath. It was the diary of Lord Coren, the architect who had designed most of the Guild buildings, and who had discovered how to shape stone with magic.

“I don’t think I need to tell you how valuable that book is,” Akkarin said quietly. “It is rare and irreplaceable and,” his voice deepened, “is not to leave this room.”

Sonea looked at him and nodded. His expression was serious, and his dark eyes bore into hers.

“You will not speak of it to anyone,” he added softly. “Only a few people know it exists, and I would prefer it stayed that way.”

She took a step away as he pushed himself out of the chair and walked to the door. As he moved into the corridor she found that Takan was watching her with uncustomary directness, as if he was assessing her closely. She met his eyes. He nodded, as if to himself, then turned away. Two sets of footsteps faded into the distance. She looked down at the book in her hands.

Sitting down, she opened the cover and began to read:

I am Coren of Emarin, House Velan, and this is to be a record of my work and discoveries.

I am not one of those who writes an account of himself out of pride or habit or any need for others to know his life. There has been little in my past that I could not discuss with my friends or my sister. Today, however, I discovered a need to transcribe my thoughts to paper. I have encountered something that I must keep a solemn secret, yet at the same time I feel an urge to tell of it that cannot be denied.

Sonea looked to the top of the page and noted the date. She realized from her recent studies that at the time of writing this diary Lord Coren had been young, restless and in disfavor with his elders for drinking excessively and designing strange, impractical buildings.

I had the chest brought to my rooms today. It took some time to open it. I disengaged the magical locks easily enough, but the lid had rusted shut. I didn’t want to risk damaging anything inside, so I took great care. When I finally had it open I was both disappointed and pleased. It was filled with boxes, so my first sight of the contents was very exciting. But as I opened each box I found only books inside. When I opened the last box I was greatly disappointed. I had found no buried treasure. Just books.

From what I have seen they are all records of some sort. I have been reading late into the night and much puzzles me. Tomorrow I will read some more.

Sonea smiled as she pictured the young magician locked away in his room reading. His following entries were haphazard, often skipping several days. Then came a short entry, underlined several times.