Maggie Furey - Aurian

Apart from Finbarr, Aurian dared confide in none of the Magefolk. If this had been Miathan’s intention all along, any or all of them might be in the plot. To be chosen by the Archmage as a consort was deemed the greatest of honors. Eliseth would give her right arm for it, Aurian thought wryly. She thought of discussing it with Maya, but then Forral would be sure to find out, and she wanted to avoid that, knowing full well how he would react. He was no match for the Archmage.

It’s no use, Aurian thought despairingly. I should leave Nexis and go back to the Valley. But though it was the only sensible option, she could not stop the tears coming at the thought. How can I leave? What will happen to Anvar without me? He belongs to the Academy—I wouldn’t be allowed to take him. And how can I leave Finbarr, and Maya and Parric and Vannor? And, oh—Forral! How could I bear to lose him again? Weary as she was after yesterday’s shock and a sleepless night, her thoughts circled in hopeless misery, without ever coming near to a solution.

Absorbed in her troubles, the Mage rode through the great stone gateway of the Garrison, scarcely aware that she had arrived. Too late, she heard the thunder of hooves bearing down on her. Her training saved her—that, and blind instinct. She felt the wind from the sword stroke whistle over her head as she dived beneath the belly of her horse, one foot still in the stirrup, one hand clutching the reins and the pommel of the saddle. Drawing her dagger with her free hand, she sliced the girth of her assailant’s mount as it passed, then hauled herself upright and wheeled her horse around in time to see the other’s saddle rock and tip, dumping the rider into the dust of the parade ground, Aurian grinned. Parric, with-wljjwn she had lately been training, sat on the hard-packed earth, swearing horribly.

“Got you!” Aurian crowed, her troubles, for the moment, vanished. “You owe me a beer, Parric.”

The little Cavalry master gave her a sour look, and spat out a mouthful of dust. “Pah! Beer, indeed! You were so bloody slow, I could have had your head off if I’d wanted!”

“Rubbish!” Aurian retorted. “What are you doing down there, then? Go on, admit it, I won.”

“Didn’t!”

“Did!” She looked around for support, and saw Maya over on the archery range at the far side of the parade ground, watching D’arvan shooting at targets with Fional, the Garrison’s crack archer.

“Maya, did you see it?” she called. “I did win, didn’t I?”

Forral’s Second-in-Command—the slender, dark-haired young woman whose luminous, delicate beauty belied whiplash reflexes and one of the most aggressive, effective fighting styles that Aurian had ever seen—stood little over five feet tall, but she had no trouble keeping order—even the biggest trooper feared her acid tongue. Yet she was quiet and shy among strangers, preferring the company of a few intimate friends. Since their first meeting so long ago in the Fleet Deer, she and Aurian had become very close. What was more, Maya seemed to be acquiring a taste for Magefolk. Since D’arvan had started coming with Aurian to the Garrison, he and Portal’s Second-in-Command could usually be found together.

Aurian was delighted that the shy young Mage had found a friend outside the Academy. He had grieved so hard, at first, over Davorshan’s defection to Eliseth. D’arvan’s early visits to the Garrison had been strained and awkward, and for a while she had despaired, but his shyness had eventually been vanquished by the discovery of an incredible talent for archery, of all things. Then Maya had won his trust at last, and taken a weight of worry from the Mage’s shoulders. The twins, at this point, seemed to have called a truce; though they had moved to separate rooms, they had apparently learned to live with the differences that had alienated them from one another. And Aurian, to her surprise, had been well repaid for her kindness to D’arvan, for she had gained another friend within the Academy where she had least expecTed to find one.

Aurian was brought back from her thoughts by Parric’s voice. “Well, you heard her—did she win?”

Fional simply shrugged, and D’arvan, intent on his shooting, gave the two assailants an absentminded wave. Maya, however, sauntered across to them, grinning. “Parric’s right, you were slow,” she said to Aurian.

“See?” the Cavalrymaster jeered. Aurian’s face fell.

“But,” Maya went on, “you were bloody effective. Cutting that girth was the neatest trick I’ve seen in ages! Face it, Parric, you’ve taught her too well. I give the result to Aurian.”

“Ha!” Aurian pointed at the little man. “Told you!”

“Bloody women!” Parric muttered disgustedly as he picked himself up, beating the dust out of his clothing. “Always stick together!”

Aurian dismounted with a smile. An outsider, she thought, would have been horrified by the incident, but within the Garrison, such surprise attacks were commonplace. The troopers were a close-knit family. They policed the city and its surrounds, dealt with any trouble, and fought any battles or wars that the Council needed fighting; and they were well aware of the dangers of their profession. Hence the potentially lethal tricks they played on one another. They pushed themselves and their comrades to the limits out of friendship—to sharpen their wits and skills, and increase their chances of survival. It was very effective. Now, thanks to Forral and her comrades-in-arms, she was a better fighter than she had ever been, and the friendships she had made were worth more than gold.

Aurian suddenly became aware that Maya was speaking to her. “What did you say?”

“I said, how was your visit to your mother?”

“Oh, I don’t know—about the same as usual.” Gods, had she only returned yesterday? It seemed unbelievable to Aurian.

“Honestly, you’re miles away this morning,” Maya said. Linking arms, the two women strolled towards the barnlike building that housed the Garrison practice floor.

“I’ve been up all night, as D’arvan might have told you, had you been able to get his attention away from his archery,” Aurian told her. “There’s great-excitement at the Academy. Finbarr found some caves beneath the archives, filled with old documents that might hold the lost history of the Magefolk, before the Cataclysm.”

Maya shuddered at the mention of the long-ago magical wars that had almost destroyed the world, and made a sign against evil. “Gods,” she said, “I thought everything had been destroyed!”

“We all did, but apparently someone had the sense to hide this stuff away out of danger. Although the Academy of that time was leveled along with the rest of the city, these artifacts survived the centuries,” Aurian said. “It took us half the night to unravel the spells protecting them, just so that we could touch them, and thea-they started to disintegrate. We spent the rest of the night working preservative magic so that we wouldn’t lose the lot.”

“If you ask me, you should have left them well alone,” Maya said darkly. “Mark my words, Aurian, no good will come of digging up ancient evils.”

At her friend’s words, Aurian felt her skin prickle. The day seemed to darken with the presentiment of some impending catastrophe. She shivered.

“What’s wrong?” Maya asked sharply.

“Nothing. I’m tired, that’s all.” She tried to convince herself that it was true.

“Are you sure you should fight this morning?” Maya sounded anxious. “Tired people make mistakes, you know.”

Aurian stopped in her tracks. “Great Chathak! I’d forgotten all about that!”

“Wonderful,” Maya said dryly. “This year Forral chooses you, out of everyone in the Garrison, to partner him in the demonstration duel for the new recruits, and you forget. It’s only an honor given to the best warrior in the place. No wonder such a little thing slipped your mind!”