"Master of the five Magics" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hardy Lyndon)

PART FOUR
The Sorcerer
CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Illusions of the Court

"HERE, take the bauble back," Cedric rasped as he tossed the ruby in Alodar's direction. "You cannot clear your conscience with a bribe, nor will I accept it in lieu of your toil. When we left Dartilac's more than a season ago, I instructed you to be here in my courtyard the morning after. Instead some thaumaturge appeared nearly a week later with the stone offered as an apology."

"Periac," Alodar said as he glanced around the familiar vine-covered walls of Cedric's field of instruction. Like a warrior being reviewed, he stood before the warmaster while Cedric paced back and forth. "I must seek him out as well when we are finished. Does he still room at the inn where I saw him last?"

"I have not kept a record of your appointments." Cedric frowned at the interruption. "But for a fact, he is in Ambrosia no longer. Two days ago he saw me again, asking if I had news of you. Then he departed for the north. 'The milk has soured,' he said. 'The people in the capital have become panicked into hoarding their gold, rather than spending it on the likes of my craft.' Panicked indeed! The city is like a bubble of marsh gas, awaiting a spark. Vendora holds a royal ball tonight to foster the image of nonchalance. And her visit to Arcadia is broadcast to be only a formality of state, but everyone knows she sails tomorrow in desperate search for aid."

"Tomorrow," Alodar said. "But why must she go at all? And what of her court? Does sorcerer Kelric follow her as well?"

"It is as she feared," Cedric answered. "The kingdoms to the south have ceased their bickering long enough to coalesce their armies into one. This morning they have crossed the border, so the sorcerers say; nothing stands between them and Ambrosia. And no mere ambassador can she send across the sea to plead her cause. King Elsinor remembers all too well how he personally had to beg on bended knee for aid in suppressing a rebellion of his own. He expects the fair lady and no one less to argue for the return of the favor. As for Kelric, I imagine he sails with the rest. The barge is big enough for half her household, although not as seaworthy as many a smaller craft."

"Then I must seek him quickly," Alodar said, "before it is too late."

Cedric stopped and looked up and down Alodar's rough clothing, wrinkled and duly after his journey from the south. "With your appearance and unpolished manner, you will fare no better than I," he said. "It is time for a man to be measured by what he can do, but they cling still to the trappings of blind tradition."

Alodar opened his mouth to reply but Cedric cut him short. "Too old," he spat "They said I was too old for command. Why even now, I am worth three of their young sons, wet-eared boys who have been no more than nicked by cold steel." He crashed his fist into an open palm. "It was not my age, but that I still refuse to play by their rules. What difference does it make if it is Feston or Basil that I would follow, so long as my sword swings swift and true? But since I would not declare, neither side will have me. And so one less arm is raised in Procolon's cause."

"Lady Aeriel would know your worth," Alodar said. "I am sure she puts the true interests of the queen above the favor seeking."

"I have not dealt with her directly," Cedric replied. "But if she is a member of the court, then she will be no different."

"You speak with contempt of those who prejudge by pattern and rote," Alodar said. "I would not think you would so measure the lady. In any event, if the queen sails tomorrow, and Kelric with her, it is to Aeriel that I will appeal for a berth."

Cedric did not reply but again looked up and down Alodar's shabby clothing.

Alodar followed his gaze and then nodded, "I agree that I must know something of the ways of the court. It is why I am here. You taught me well at Dartilac's. With a little more instruction, I am sure I will pass through the palace hallways like the rest. And if you will not accept the ruby for payment, then all I can offer is the high opinion of the teacher which is generated by the deeds of the well-taught pupil."

Cedric's eyes narrowed and he studied Alodar for a long time in silence. "It is true that you do not seek the position of a commander," he said at last. "Perhaps this lady can get you placed in a lowly group such as Quantos' marines. Some position that is not significant enough to require commitment to either side."

Cedric resumed his pacing, twisting his moustache into sharpness and looking over Alodar's head to the walls beyond. "I had hoped to wait until you were fully trained," he muttered after a moment, "but the events force it to be now." He shrugged, slapped his hip with decision, and then motioned to the bench nearby. "Come, Alodar, there is a matter of much importance of which we must speak."

They sat down facing one another and Cedric placed his hand on Alodar's shoulder. "I admit to some truth in what they say. On cold mornings my knees are stiff and my eyes no longer follow the tip of the fastest blades. I am still very much the master, but I know that someday I must pass my heritage on to another."

Cedric stopped and gently rocked Alodar back and forth. "You will never become a great warrior," he said. "With more training you will grow into someone not to be dismissed lightly. But you are too small and slow to hack your way through a screaming hoard or stand toe to toe with a thick-muscled giant. No matter how hard you try, I do not see you someday beating your chest in triumph on the top of a pile of bloodied foes."

Alodar's lips parted but Cedric raised his other hand for silence. "But you have spirit. Despite the meager abilities at your command, you track your goals like a hero from the sagas. And it is that drive that attracted my attention to you; it is that dedication which commands my respect and motivates me to aid you as I can." Cedric paused and looked deeply into Alodar's eyes. "I see my own burning youth in your quest, Alodar. Even though my joints grow stiff, through your pursuit I live again.

"And so, if by the random factors I am to remain behind when the fair lady chances across the sea, then I choose to send my spirit with you rather than some other dewy-cheeked warrior, no matter how skillful." Cedric unstrapped his sword and placed it across Alodar's knees. "Take this," he commanded, "but remember when it is drawn, it must defend not one reputation but two."

Alodar blinked at Cedric's words and tentatively reached out to touch the hilt in his lap. He looked back into the warmaster's eyes, saw the intensity of the feelings, and then tightened his grip. "I will wear it in honor," he said softly.

Cedric was silent for a moment longer, then slapped Alodar on the arm and sprang up from the bench. "Enough of this chatter," he rasped in his usual manner. "There is little time and much to be done. I will tell you the etiquette of the court, and the ruby will provide what you must wear. Then, if your tongue is quick enough, you can try to convince this lady Aeriel to secure you an appointment with Quantos of the royal marines."

Alodar wriggled his toes in the soft fur that lined his new calfskin boots. He glanced down at his silken tunic and smiled at the subtle pattern of silver thread which ran through the cloth. Around him mingled the nobles of the court, and nothing marked his raiment from theirs. The tailor had been right, he thought, the small ruby was twice again enough to purchase a wardrobe equal to any here.

Alodar looked around the large room and saw everyone crowded into the periphery. The center was clear, and the sheen on the parquet floor reflected brightly the light of the chandeliers overhead. Decorative columns with flowery capitals and fluted shafts were spaced with precision along all four walls; between them, frescos and tapestries blazed with heroic deeds from the sagas. On the far wall next to ceiling-high double doors, a small ensemble of musicians tuned their instruments, adding to the low drone of conversation. The mood was somber; the room resonated with the gentle hum of smoke-sedated bees, rather than the vigor of a swarming hive that one would expect at a royal ball.

Alodar scanned the assemblage for familiar faces from Iron Fist or Cedric's sparring yard and, here and there, he thought he recognized some lordling. The entire titled class within a day's ride of Ambrosia must be here, he thought. It was no wonder that the bribe to the footman to gain entrance had cost as much as the clothes on his back.

The buzzing around him rose slightly, and Alodar looked to the doors that connected the ballroom to the hallway beyond. Without fanfare, a tall, black-headed man entered the room with a military stride, and Alodar recognized him instantly.

"Look, it is lord Feston," someone to Alodar's right stage-whispered to her companion. "He can hardly control the agitation that disfigures his already uncomely face."

"Well enough that he is so discomforted," a second voice responded. "Perhaps he will then acknowledge the existence of other ladies besides the queen."

Alodar shut out the conversation and concentrated on Feston as the man moved about the room, acknowledging the greetings thrown his way. A year ago, Alodar would have been cowed. But today he noticed the way Feston moved his right hand to rest on the hilt of his sword, how he exposed his thigh when he gestured upward and away. His left foot was forward; he would swing from the side, rather than overhead. A contest between them tomorrow might have the same end but it certainly would not be decided by a single thrust.

Feston had not completed a half circuit of the room when a footman dressed as richly as anyone present skipped into the crowd, blowing a light tune on a flute. Behind him, with a dazzling beauty on each arm, came the massive bulk of Basil the apothecary. A gasp rose from the assemblage as he triumphantly advanced through the doorway, covered from head to toe in what appeared to be a robe of woven gold.

"My good company," he boomed across the hall. "What pleasure it gives me to see all of you so splendidly arrayed for the entertainment of our queen." As he spoke, he idly flicked his fingers in a rhythmic pattern, causing a random clicking sound to emanate from his palm. A small stone dropped from his grip in a glittering flash, and the ladies scrambled to retrieve it. In an instant, one held it aloft.

"Keep it, my dear," Basil said. "It is but a small sapphire. Have it set in a ring."

As he spoke, Alodar saw a flash of red hair as several more of the court crowded into the room.

"My lady Aeriel," Basil said, whirling about. "I see another fine setting for one of these stones." With a sudden flick of the wrist, he tossed a second gem in Aeriel's direction and it fell in a smooth arc down the front of her dress. Her cheeks momentarily flushed and the crowd tittered at her discomfort.

Alodar looked at Aeriel and his pulse quickened. He could not help a small smile of pleasant anticipation as he thought how his quest gave him reason to seek her company again.

Heralds at the door blew two staccato blasts and Alodar jogged his attention back to the entrance. With unrushed dignity, Vendora entered the room in a gown of deepest red. He looked at her cold beauty and exhaled slowly. Vendora took two small steps into the corridor of people that opened for her and then stopped and looked back through the doorway. With a laugh, she motioned forward with her hand, and another figure entered the ballroom. The murmuring increased as Vendora spoke gaily to the assemblage, and Alodar's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Lord Feston, apothecary Basil, and my distinguished company," Vendora said lightly. "As you well know, I have had much difficulty in choosing a consort between my two suitors. Can you imagine the difficulty in my decision, now that I have not two but three." She laughed again and waved an elaborate flourish. "I present to you," she said, "the distinguished magician of the Cycloid Guild, Duncan, the all-protecting."

From across the room, Alodar shook his head at the news. Feston had profited from his deeds at Iron Fist. Basil from his alchemy; and now even his magic sphere had been used for benefit of another. Although Duncan left the Guild only shortly before Alodar he must have been able to gain immediate access to the queen with the power that now glittered in a small cage of spun gold hanging from his waist.

"Perhaps later," Vendora continued, "Duncan will be so kind as to demonstrate for us the miraculous object he brings to the throne of Procolon. But for the moment, let us forget other depressing matters of state and revel instead in some entertainments."

Vendora moved to a more central position and Feston, Duncan, and Basil jockeyed for position immediately behind. The rest of the crowd crushed together in back of the three suitors and fell silent in anticipation. After a long moment, a robed figure, stooped with age, ambled slowly through the doorway. Alodar's brows rose as he saw the faded eye logos on the frayed robe, startlingly out of place in the finery about it.

Lectonil had been old but had carried his age with dignity, his back straight and his tread sure and firm. In contrast, the figure in front of Alodar shuffled uncertainly forward, dragging one leg behind as he advanced. His fingers were stiffly spread and curled like the talons of a bird, and rheumy eyes squinted from a face that sagged with loose and wrinkled flesh. The head was narrow and long, as if slightly flattened out of shape by a blacksmith's vice. A few long and straggly hairs hung to the shoulders from above the ears, and a slight ridge ran the length of the completely bald crown.

"The logo is the mark of the sorcerer," someone behind Alodar muttered. "What risk the queen takes to expose herself so."

"It is only Kelric, the seer of the court," a second voice answered. "He served Vendora's father and long ago used up his ability to enchant, so they say. He has little more than illusions left, and I wager that is what he performs for us tonight."

Kelric shuffled to the very center of the room and bowed stiffly to the queen. Without preamble, he began to sing a long, melodious song in an unfamiliar tongue. Alodar listened intently; with his trained ear, he tried to pick out words of power from the deception which surrounded them. The chant droned on, and he furrowed his brow in puzzlement as the melody caressed his ears. Far better than any thaumaturge, he thought. Every word seems to have substance and contain real meaning.

Each sound obeyed an intricate logic in following the one that preceded, and Alodar found himself almost dozing with the gentle rhythm that flowed through the room. He began to sense a pattern as verse followed verse in a repeat of what had been said just moments before. Then, as a third repetition coursed through his head, he felt an overwhelming compulsion to look the sorcerer in the eye. As he yielded, his eyes locked instantly on Kelric's, now wild and glowing owl-like in a stare that seemed to bore into his innermost being.

The scene around the old man blurred for an instant and then snapped back into focus, but somehow not so sharply as before. Alodar felt himself idly wondering what was different. Before he could complete the thought, the sorcerer vanished in a column of green flame that rose from the floor and splashed against the ceiling.

Like a fountain, the flickering flames caressed the beams which spanned the room, then arched outwards and fell towards the floor. As each globule neared the ground, it exploded in a small blossom of flame that winked out of sight. Gradually the column changed color, progressing through the rainbow from green to yellow to orange to furnace red. Then, with a sudden rush, the base of the column rose from the floor, crashed against the ceiling, and sent a dazzling cascade of sparks down onto the onlookers. Alodar winced with the expectation of fiery contact, but the globules seemed to melt away as they touched with feathery lightness.

A small ripple of applause broke forth from those around the queen as every spark but the last died away. The surviving point of light grew as it fell, subtly transforming from a bright speck of flame to a tiny opalescent sphere. As it floated downward, it grew fist-sized, then as large as a barrel, and at last elongated to the shape of a giant egg. The shell touched the floor with a gentle tap, then cracked asunder. From the two ragged halves, a scaly reptilian form suddenly appeared, arching its neck and flicking its forked tongue in the direction of the queen.

The crowd involuntarily gasped as the monster grew in stature, belching fire as it stretched skyward. Alodar stepped backward and reached for Cedric's sword at his side. The wyvern at the guild had been monstrous, but it did not compare with the giant he saw now uncoiling before his eyes. With scales gleaming in the candlelight, it darted its tongue menacingly out across the room, seeming to reach directly for Alodar over the heads of those who stood in between.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alodar saw others flinch as he did and then, when the giant mouth opened and billowed out a ball of flame, the room erupted with screams of alarm.

Alodar threw his arm over his face to ward off the fiery breath and drew his blade chest high to slash at the dancing ribbon of tongue. But the heat and sting did not come, only the soft feathery caress that had accompanied the fireworks before. Looking to the center of the room, he saw the dragon now start to shrink in size, imploding to a small replica of its former self, hardly a foot high. Then, without pause, it began to whirl about, rapidly blurring its features into a shining green disk.

Alodar stared at the vision and he saw soft colors begin to form and undulate about on its surface. The rotation slowed and the hues changed from golds to pinks and reds as they randomly flowed and ebbed in shining patterns. Suddenly the motion stopped, and Alodar blinked at the metamorphosis. The dragon was gone; before him stood a stunning replica of the face of Vendora the queen.

"The starting point," he heard Kelric say. "But for each of you, an image of your own. Look at the beauty of the fair lady and it will transform into the object of your deepest desire."

Alodar felt his lips curve into a smile. Kelric was clever, he thought dimly. For most of the men present, the illusion would not change at all. He concentrated on the golden curls framing the finely chiseled face and tried to taste the feeling of success with his quest. But as he watched, the illusion subtly began to change. The hair shortened and mellowed from gold to amber. The eyes darkened and danced to life. In an instant Alodar saw, not the face of the queen, but a vision of lady Aeriel.

In surprise, Alodar blinked a second time and the image diffused away. The room again was in sharp focus, and Kelric stood huddled in the center as he had before. A spatter of applause broke out once more from the crowd. "Well done, Kelric," Vendora exclaimed. "Your illusions as always show great creativity and finesse."

The sorcerer bowed with a sad smile; with a fumbling hand, he grasped at the small bag that Basil tossed to him as he straightened. With head down, he turned and shuffled out the way he had come, the gathering making more room for his passage than had been done for the queen.

Alodar rubbed the side of his face and then shook his head. How real the sorcerer's illusions had been! There was none of the blurriness of a dream, or the known hallucination of a drug, but an experience accepted by all the senses. No wonder the glance of the sorcerer was shunned. The step from illusion to enchantment seemed to be a small one and, once entrapped, one would have no hint that his will was the slave to another.

The musicians struck up a tune, and the lords and ladies maneuvered for position to dance with the queen or her suitors. Alodar hardly noticed the proceedings and shouldered his way past the crowd as it filled the center of the room. As he went through the tall double doors, he saw Kelric's stooped form rounding a corner and he raced after.

"Master Kelric," he called, "a moment for consultation, it you will."

Kelric turned and frowned in irritation. "Were you one of the ladles with the low cut gowns, I might have time to listen. But for a lord's son, you have not enough gold to pay me for whatever you want."

"It is not for illusion or far-seeing," Alodar said as he drew abreast. "I seek edification and instruction and I think I have an object that will interest you greatly." He reached into the pouch at his side and withdrew the transparent sphere.

Kelric's eyebrows raised momentarily when he saw the orb, but he quickly pulled his face back into a harsh and unyielding expression. "It may well be a legendary sorcerer's eye," he said. "And if I were still in my youth, the power it represents would interest me greatly. But my vital force is nearly gone; I can feel how shallow is the reservoir that remains. And I value what days I have left far more than the thrill of thousands marching in sway to my enchantment. No, it is only minor illusion and prophecy of short range in which I will indulge, and then only after the greatest of persuasion. Take this thing and seek out one of the younger fools who choose to practice this accursed craft, one who does not yet understand the price he pays."

"But what of instruction?" Alodar asked. "Your name has become a legend throughout the kingdom. Surely you wish to pass on your mastery to another."

Kelric tipped back his head and laughed. "They ascribe to the sorcerer the most evil of motives," he said. "But even in my most vile moods, I would not think of inflicting my fate onto another." He leveled his head and looked with a penetrating stare into Alodar's eyes. "Now be off and irritate me no longer, or perhaps, after all, I will make the effort for more than a simple illusion."

Alodar remembered the images still fresh in his mind and almost instinctively turned his head and raised his arm across his face. Kelric laughed a second time, turned, and continued his slow shuffle down the passageway.

After a moment, Alodar lowered his head and replaced the sphere in its pouch. He smoothed down the front of his tunic and exhaled deeply. So that was the great Kelric, the master sorcerer of all of Procolon. He shook his head and began to pace slowly down the hallway, hands clasped behind his back. And now what course? Should he seek a sorcerer of less renown? Perhaps someone away from the court, one whose limits bad not yet been tested.

Alodar looked down at his side. Such a search would take him away from the fair lady. And he had pledged to seek Aeriel's aid in unsheathing Cedric's sword for the queen's cause. Yes, Aeriel! For both the marines and dealing with Kelric, lady Aeriel would provide the aid.

Alodar slapped the hilt at his side and increased his pace. And there was still time enough to arrange an appointment before the end of the ball.

The guardsman coughed softly as he ushered Alodar into the small, plain chamber, and Aeriel's face brightened with recognition. "Why, what a coincidence! It is Alodar the thaumaturge. And I see by your garb that you ply your craft to much greater profit than when we last met."

Alodar looked intently at Aeriel as she rose to greet him. She clutched an old shawl around her bare shoulders, not seeming to care how out of place it looked, draped over the richness of her ballgown. Her lips curved in a broad smile, but he could see the fatigue that pulled at her eyes as well. Behind her on a simple table, between two teetering piles of parchment, was scattered an array of seals, colored candles, inkstands, and quills.

"My fortune does not extend from journeyman training, my lady," Alodar answered, "but it does provide the means by which I may consult with you for sage advice."

"Advice?" Aeriel asked. "You seemed quite sure of yourself in Iron Fist, Why now would you need my council?"

"The ways of the court are not so straightforward," Alodar said, "especially when they concern the opinions of the queen."

Aeriel stopped and visibly stiffened. "The opinions of the queen," she repeated slowly. "By that do you mean you still quest for the fair lady?"

Alodar saw her change in mood and darted his eyes to the side. He paused a moment, then looked back into her eyes. "So I have done since we parted," he said with difficulty, "although oftentimes my thoughts have…" He trailed off and took another breath. "Yes, I still seek for the hand of the fair lady, and your parting words led me to believe that you would not look with disfavor upon such a goal, if it were in the interest of the queen."

Aeriel was silent for a moment and then returned to her seat behind the table. "I encourage any endeavor that truly assists the crown," she said. "And such aid is now sorely needed." She rubbed her eyes and waved her hand at the documents on the table. "Writs for the armory, rum allocations for the crew, promotions and certifications of skill, they all must be decided before we sail. And despite the seriousness of the hour, no one else will take the responsibility, so much do they fear offending one of the suitors by their choice. Many beseech my favor in intercession with the queen, Alodar, but I have little time for such petty intrigues, especially now."

"But it is an audience with Kelric that I seek," Alodar said. "I will gain the favor of the fair lady on merit, not because of some arrangement with the nobles of the land."

"And why then do you desire audience with the sorcerer?" Aeriel asked. "He traffics in the frivolities of the court no more than I."

"Because I bring to the fair lady a gift that surely is the equal to those offered by the others," Alodar said as he removed the orb from its pouch and held it forward. "I need only such meager instruction as is necessary to activate it properly and I am ready to pledge wholehearted service to the queen. Kelric mentioned the enchanting of thousands. Surely such an ability will be of great value when she has to face the armies of the south."

Aeriel touched the sphere, and her lips pursed in surprise at its coldness. She studied the delicate sculpture of the eye and then looked at Alodar in silence, frowning in thought. After a moment, she reached out tentatively for his arm but then quickly shook her head and withdrew her hand before he could respond.

"Your boldness is no less than I have judged, Alodar." She sighed. "And in the calm light of reason, I see you as worthy a suitor as the others. I have pledged my service to the queen. If you do likewise, then I must aid you as I can. Come, follow me to Kelric's quarters. I can persuade him better than most."

Without waiting for a reply, Aeriel quickly swept through the room and out into the hallway. Alodar followed her through the maze of passageways in the huge palace. Unlike the buildings at the Cycloid Guild, the royal residence was a one-story sprawl, a jumble of wings and annexes added over the centuries as the power of Procolon grew.

Aeriel whirled past guard stations without explanation; after several minutes of bewildering turns, she ducked into the low and open entryway of a softly lit chamber.

He looked about in the dimness, straining to distinguish form from shadow. In a feeble flicker in the center of the room, between two giant columns of smouldering incense, he saw Kelric sitting cross-legged, clad only in a simple loincloth, with his chin slumped forward on his bony chest. A brazier hung on a tripod, its meager flame providing the only light. Against the far wall, a lady of the court, her hair hanging long in imitation of the queen's, stood tensely erect, watching the scene.

Alodar started to speak, but Aeriel put her finger to her lips as Kelric opened his eyes wide in a glazed stare and sluggishly extended clinched fists. He opened his left hand over a disk suspended above the brazier, dropping a fine sand onto its shiny surface. With his other hand, he struck the shallow bowl sharply, setting up a complex set of vibrations as it swung. Kelric stared at the dance of sand in silence, eyes unblinking and seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.

"I see the camp," he said in a voice as thin as a distant wind. "The fire burns low and the sentry slumps at his post. The one for which you care is not asleep. With his head propped by his elbow on the ground he talks softly to the one who rests next to him."

"What does he say, does he speak of me?" the lady asked. "Is my favor still bound on his arm?"

Kelric's other hand opened and a second load of sand hit the disk. He clanged it again just as the first vibrations began to subside. "My ears hear the voices," he said, "although they are soft and faint." Kelric closed his eyes and was silent for a full minute, swaying his body back and forth with the rhythm of the gently swinging disk.

"It is not only Bandor and the other leaders, I tell you," a voice, deep and youthful, broke from Kelric's lips as he rocked. "Each commander leads his own troops as if he were possessed as well. They will not ask for quarter so long as one of them remains standing. This siege will far outlast the season."

"Yes, and there are so many imps darting about," a second voice came from the sorcerer. "The talk of the camp has it that the barrier between the worlds has been weakened, and stronger demons can pass through without being called. Do not look even into our simple campfire, I say. Who knows what lurks behind the flame to grab your will as well?"

"But what of me?" the lady interrupted. "What are his thoughts of me?"

Kelric opened his mouth to speak but then fell silent. Gradually the sand stopped its jumping, and his eyelids slowly opened. "It has faded, Umbriel," he said groggily. "Any more would be greater than fair trade for what you have offered." With a trembling hand, Kelric reached for a cup at his side and drained its contents. He shook his head violently from side to side and arched his back. Finally, he struck his face with a series of sharp slaps and grimaced at the shock. "And so a little more is gone," he muttered as he hesitantly got to his feet.

Umbriel saw his slow motions and started towards the doorway. The sorcerer quickly sprang to life and jumped in the way. "And a payment promptly rendered reflects so nicely on the debtor," he said with a toothless smile. "Come forward, my dear, and linger as long as you like."

Umbriel sighed and shut her eyes. She took a single step and then hesitated. She pursed her lips and extended them forward briefly, brushing the sorcerer's cheek.

"That is a kiss one would give to a brother," Kelric grumbled. "Remember, in a fortnight you will wish to see again how fares your heartthrob on the battlefield. And before I perform, you must have a clear account for what you have learned tonight."

"But I found out nothing of what I wanted," Umbriel said. "I heard but a snatch of conversation and then you were done."

"You know that he is safe," Kelric replied. "That alone is worth the price."

Umbriel sighed a second time and took another step forward. Kelric reached out and swept her into his bony arms. He thrust his lips on hers. With surprising strength, he resisted her attempts to push away his chest. After a moment, he released his grip, and she staggered backwards, face flushed and panting deeply. "That is more to my liking," he cackled. "And perhaps in time you will learn to enjoy it as well."

"Never," Umbriel choked. "I was weak with worry because I have not heard. For no other reason would I seek your service or agree to what you demand for it."

"Never is a long time," Kelric said. "And you will come again, I know it." His eyes widened and he stared at the woman. "And perhaps the next time you will not find me so repugnant."

Umbriel shuddered and then bolted for the door. She raced between Aeriel and Alodar and was in the hallway before Kelric's raspy laugh echoed after.

"It is unkind to treat her so, Kelric," Aeriel said. "She has done you no harm."

"Nor has she shown any favor," the sorcerer snapped back. "We had a fair agreement, and she was obligated to hold to her end of it." He waved his arm in irritation. "She is like the rest, choosing to ignore me until the need is great, and then expecting my gracious acceptance of a mind-numbing task for a mere pittance of fee. If she does not show me a little tenderness, then our relation will be governed instead by fear."

Aeriel pulled her lips into a tight line. "The queen is judged by the court she keeps," she said. "There may come a day when shortcomings of your craft outweigh the advantages you provide to the crown."

Kelric laughed again. "You are in fine spirits tonight, Aeriel," he said. He ran his hand across his bare chest and leered at her figure. "But I am most happy that you choose to see me at this hour. It must mean only that you have come to surrender your virtue for the sake of my person only, not for some service that I would provide in trade."

"I come as always on the affairs of the fair lady," Aeriel said. "If you instruct Alodar here in the manner of your craft, then the safety of the queen will be greatly augmented."

Kelric turned to look at Alodar and wrinkled his brow in recognition. "I have dismissed him already, and the matter is closed. Come now, let me see at least some of what lies underneath that silken gown."

"Your talk is far worse than your deed, Kelric," Aeriel said. "My request has royal authority behind it; you cannot dismiss the matter so lightly."

"Then perhaps an illusion for just the three of us? The young man here would be as interested as I in how you might look unclothed."

"You have no basis on which to paint such an image," Aeriel said coldly. "It would not bother me if you did try."

Kelric stomped his foot in frustration and looked around the room for a robe to cover his bony frame. "Oh very well, Aeriel. This meeting will be for business, the same as always, but one of these times I will loose my control and then who can say what might happen?" He opened his eyes wide and stared at Aeriel as he had done at Umbriel, but Aeriel did not turn away.

Kelric sighed in final defeat and turned to some chairs stacked in the corner of the small chamber. As he arranged them for sitting, he continued the conversation over his shoulder. "It is a sorcerer's eye, Aeriel," he said. "Most rare and powerful, I do admit. I have heard of it only from others who long ago used the last of their vital forces in our craft. And they had heard from older ones still. None of us have had the opportunity to see if what is reputed of it can actually be true."

He finished positioning the chairs to his satisfaction and motioned for Aeriel and Alodar to join him in the small circle. "Great enchantments, it is said, come from the holder of the eye. Nearly instantaneous and subtle, like the ones talked of in the sagas. But enchantments I risk no more, my lady. Even a single one would more than deplete what remains of my life force."

"You are far craftier than you lead us to believe," Aeriel said. "You bemoan the loss of your powers and that you must carefully husband what meager resources remain. Yet for a single embrace, you search all the way to the west for a lovesick maiden."

"It is true, nonetheless," Kelric protested. "And the few kisses and squeezes I receive for what remains are far more valuable than whatever pile of jewels the queen could heap upon me."

"You would not have to use the eye," Alodar interrupted. "I am willing to take whatever risk is involved. I want from you only the instruction that will make it possible for me to do so."

"But then, Vendora sails tomorrow across the sea," Kelric said. "There is too little time remaining for me to explain something as potent as this. Any execution must be built upon a firm foundation of well-learned fundamentals."

"With lady Aeriel's help, I can come as well," Alodar suggested. "You can teach me during the voyage."

"Then there is the matter of payment," Kelric said, his face brightening as he looked at Aeriel. "What do you offer me in exchange, my lady?"

"You know the peril which now threatens the queen," Aeriel replied. "And I know as well that, beneath the threats and leers, there is the man who still has loyalty to the crown. Loyalty for providing him with bed, food, and protection, regardless of the howls of the ones he had outraged by his actions. It is not a question of payment, Kelric, but one of duty."

Kelric sighed and lowered his head to his chest. For a long moment the room was silent. "Very well," he said at last. "We will begin instruction when we are out to sea and the routine of the voyage has been established."

Aeriel rose and kissed Kelric gently on the forehead. "And your secret is still safe with me." She laughed. "It would spoil your image if anyone knew that a sorcerer's heart was not constructed entirely of stone." She turned to Alodar and extended her hand. "Come," she said, "tell me if it is to Feston or Basil you would rather belong, and I will see that the arrangements are made."

Alodar stood and grasped her hand in his. "To neither. I want no more than to be a member of Quantos' marines."

Aeriel's smile broadened. "Quantos, of course, she said as she looked Alodar in the eye. "It is the right choice for one who is truly worthy."