Maggie Furey - Aurian

Having finally managed to light the lantern, Elewin relaxed a little as its mellow glow banished the darkness, making the frigid air of the corridor seem warmer. Thank the Gods! Being down here in the dark with those Wraiths was more than he could bear! Though they had been disabled, it was easy to imagine that he could hear them stirring . . . Waking . . . Elewin shuddered as he began to thread his cautious way through the maze of passages and stairways beneath the Academy. When he passed the room where the Wraiths were stored, he held his breath and hurried.

The blade came whistling out of the darkness, not half an inch from his face. Elewin jumped back round the sharp bend in the corridor, almost dropping the lantern in his fright. “It’s me, you fool!” he hissed. “What the blazes are you doing up here? You nearly took my bloody nose off!”

“Sorry.” The small, wiry form of Parric the Cavalrymaster appeared round the corner. He was grinning from ear to ear. “I must be getting rusty. It was meant to be your head!”

Elewin was not amused. “Why didn’t you wait in our usual place? What if I’d been one of the Magefolk?”

Parric shrugged, “You were late,” he complained, “I was freezing my bollocks off down there, Elewin. I had to move about, to keep warm!”

“Never mind,” the Steward sighed, It was clear where he was learning all his bad language nowadays. “I have news for you. Come farther down where it’s safer, and we’ll talk,”

“I don’t know why you’re so worried,” Parric grumbled. “Who in their right mind would come down here on a night like this? I swear there’s icicles growing on the end of my—”

“Porricf”

The Cavalrymaster chuckled.

The ancient parts of the catacombs that Anvar had discovered were little more than a series of natural caves, set low in the end of the promontory. They had been stripped of their treasures now, and the footfalls of the two men echoed loudly in the bare chambers. Singe the ancient spells that guarded their contents had been broken, damp had begun to seep in from the nearby river. The dark walls were jeweled with ice crystals that splintered the lamplight, and the floor was slick and treacherous underfoot. Elewin gripped the lantern tightly to prevent it slipping from his numb grasp, and wished that Finbarr still lived. In the Archivist’s day, these caverns had been lit by Magelight, and kept warm and dry by means of his spells.

“See? I told you. Colder than a prostitute’s heart down here.” Parric pulled the remains of a broken wooden chest out of a corner and sat down, motioning for Elewin to join him. “I don’t suppose you brought some food with you? Or a bottle?” he asked hopefully.

“Didn’t get the chance. Sorry, Parric. I know there aren’t many comforts where you men are hiding out. Still, I have some news that will warm your heart better than a bottle.” Elewin grinned, savoring the moment. “The Lady Aurian is said to be alive!”

He hardly got the reaction he had expected. The leathery, hard-bitten little Cavalrymaster stared at him, tears welling up in his eyes and rolling unheeded down his cheeks. Then turning abruptly away, Parric hid his face in his hands and began to sob.

“Parric!” A very startled Elewin put the lantern down, and laid an arm across the man’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Parric choked. He wiped his face, looking emBarrassed. “Not what you’d expect of a tough old bastard like me, is it?” He swallowed hard. “But by the Gods, I was so fond of that lass! We all loved her—her and Forral. We thought they’d both been killed—then Vannor told us she’d been carrying Forral’s child . . . Elewin, it’s a miracle! A bloody miracle!” He clutched at the Steward’s arm. “Where is she? How is she?”

Elewin hated to dampen the man’s joy. “Don’t get your hopes up, Parric. It isn’t certain. But Miathan insists she’s still alive, and that her servant is with her—”

“What, young Anvar? Well, I’m blowed! Forral always thought that lad had some good stuff in him!”

“The bad news is that they think she’s in the Southern Kingdoms, if she’s anywhere.”

“What? How the bloody blue blazes did she get down there?”

Elewin told Parric what he had overheard. “So you see how grave the situation is,” he finished. “If Eliseth tampers with the weather, it would not only put Aurian in danger, but it could be catastrophic for our own folk—worse than anything we’ve seen since the Cataclysm.”

Parric frowned. “This changes things. I’ll discuss it with Vannor, of course, but I think we’ll be leaving the city now. We can’t stay where we are if it thaws, and we’re too close to the Academy to assemble an effective force. But when Aurian returns—”

“You think she’ll come back?” Elewin was surprised. “Aurian? Of course she will! It’d take more than an ocean to keep that lass from Miathan, after he killed Forral, I’ll wager she’s on her way back already—to settle with the Archmage, And when she does we’ll see a thing or two,”

“Parric! We’re talking about the Magefolk!” Elewin protested. “It won’t be that easy!”

The Cavalrymaster sobered. “I know. That’s why we need an army. Aurian can’t do it alone, just as we can’t, without a Mage, But together, maybe . . . Anyway, I must get back to Vannor with this news.” He hesitated, his expression thoughtful. “Elewin, why don’t you come with me? If we move elsewhere, you won’t be needed here as an informant, and it’s dangerous for you to stay,”

Elewin shook his head, though he was sorely tempted. “I’d better not. If I suddenly vanish, Elfseth and Bragar will get suspicious and start searching for me, and that might put your people in danger. And if you want to attack the Academy, you’ll need someone on the inside.”

“But it could be ages before we can do that!” “It can’t be helped, I’ll be all right. Besides, Miathan depends on me. To see him this way—blind and crippled—oh, I know it’s his own fault, but he seems so helpless . . .”

Parric clasped the other’s arm, “Elewin, I know this is a trial for your loyalties, and we’re very grateful, but—”

“It’s not just that! The balance of power is changing within the Academy. Be warned, Parric. Eliseth is the one to beware of now,”

I

“I’ll bear it in mind. Aurian always hated that bitch. Look, are you sure you won’t come?”

“I cannot.”

Parric nodded. “All right. You’re a brave man, Elewin—or daft. Forral always said there wasn’t much difference between the two. Farewell, my friend. Our prayers go with you. Vannor will try to get word to you from time to time.”

“Vannor? What about you?”

“Me? Personally, I have a sudden hankering to head south. It’s warmer there!” The Cavalrymaster winked, and picking up his own lantern, vanished into the shadows at the back of the cave, leaving Elewin gaping in astonishment.

The sewers ran the length and breadth of the city, a democratic highway connecting the grand and lofty Academy to even the meanest of dwellings. Not the pleasantest of places to lie low, but there was a certain satisfaction in being able to move around under the very noses of the Magefolk, and it had been simplicity itself to break through the thin stone barrier into the old part of the Archives. The hole was hidden in a corner, where a spur of rock formed a kink in the tunnel so that the opening was obscured by the shadow of the jutting stone. Because of his slight stature, Parric had been chosen as go-between. Holding his lantern out at arm’s length, he squeezed through the hole into the narrow drain beyond. Luckily the current low population of the Academy, coupled with the cold weather, had reduced the smell, but he still tried to hold his breath. Given time, a man could get used to most things, but there were limits!