Alastair Archibald - Truth and Deception

"We could take a covered wagon, Lord Horin. One man drives while the rest remain in the back of the vehicle. If we wish to stay in a town, the cart is driven through it until a resting place is found, and the others are put down in inconspicuous locations along the way, so they can make their way there as individuals, rather than as a suspicious group. If the wagon is searched, for any reason, we say that we are on a pilgrimage, or that we have picked up indigent travellers during our journey.

"We may also need to coerce a few Outsiders and take them into our confidence, in order to gain necessary information. However, if necessary, either Questor Guy or I should be able to persuade them to forget. Should any searchers or inquisitors seem unduly suspicious of us, we can do the same thing."

Grimm saw that Horin's eyes were once more distant, wandering, and he guessed the Guildmaster was mentally disassembling his proposal down to its component parts, mulling over each one.

At last, the Dominie nodded. "Very well, Dragonblaster. I have my misgivings, but I accept your counsel. We'll proceed along those lines."

Grimm knew Horin had only used the cognomen in order to increase the Questor's enthusiasm for the Quest, but the title still sounded fine to his ears, pleasing him.

"What tale do you propose I tell Prelate Thorn?" the older mage said. "I am, after all, depriving him of two valuable mages."

Grimm doubted the term 'valuable mage' could be applied to Numal, but he thought it better not to mention the fact. "I'm sorry, Lord Dominie, but I'm no politician or diplomat, and I don't think I ever will be. I owe Lord Thorn a lot, and I don't care to lie to him."

"Are you saying. enjoy subterfuge?" Horin fumed, a trace of his earlier hot temper returning. However, he soon made a placatory gesture with his hands and softened his tone. "I'm sorry, young Afelnor; you're quite right to have such reservations, and I mustn't berate you for the fact. May I assume you have accepted my proposal?"

Grimm nodded. "I thank you for your faith in my abilities, Lord Horin, from the bottom of my heart. Yes, I accept the Quest. However, I ask that you give me absolute authority over the conduct of the mission."

Horin repeated his earlier, humourless laugh. "I can't do that, Questor Grimm. Although you are my chosen weapon, Questor Guy must be ten years older than you, and an experienced mage to boot. He must be considered the senior mage."

"Then, why did you ask me first?" Grimm snapped. It appeared to him that the Dominie revelled in building him up, just so he could knock him back down again. "I refuse to serve under Questor Guy. Tell him to carry out the Quest under his own terms, and see just how far he gets!"

Horin bounced on the balls of his feet, his eyes blazing. "You are just impossible, you impudent young whelp! No doubt, you'll be telling me how to run the Presidium, next!"

He could just have threatened to wipe my memory, Grimm thought, but he needs me.

The old man screwed up his face as if he had just eaten a sour pickle. "All right; I'll consider giving you joint leadership; will that be satisfactory to you, Lord Mage?"

Grimm suppressed a smile. "No, Lord Dominie. You chose me for this mission, and the inclusion of Questor Guy was only an afterthought. At first, you were happy to let me act on my own."

Horin's face appeared to boil, his complexion almost matching the deep red of his sumptuous leather armchair.

The young mage continued, his tone level and implacable: "Joint jurisdiction would just lead to inefficient disputes. There needs to be a clear leader to make the final decision."

The old man appeared to be suffused with frustrated rage. He picked up another small marble piece, as if he might be about to throw it through one of the closed windows, before apparently thinking better of it. With the statue still in his hand, he said, "What you ask-what you demand-is a clear breach of protocol. Questor Guy is the senior mage; command of the mission should be his. What reason do you, a relatively inexperienced Questor, have, to justify your being given authority over him?"

This is no time to back down, Grimm.

"Lord Dominie, Questor Guy is the grandson of Prioress Lizaveta, or so he tells me. He hates her with a passion for allowing him to spend his days as a Student in penury, and I worry that he will concentrate more on destroying the Prioress herself than eliminating her influence. I fear that he will be moved to take too many risks if left unchecked."

The old man set the statue back down with care, and the astonishment on his face was plain to see.

As for a breach of protocol, Lord Horin, I believe it is considered normal practice to inform the members of the Presidium and the Questor's House Prelate of the scope and reasons for a Quest, thought the young mage, although he did not wish to provoke Horin too much by saying so.

"I am a Guild man, Dominie," he said aloud, "and I reaffirm my Oath in all its solemnity; however, I wish to maximise its chances of success. I fear that Questor Guy has too much personal interest in a specific aspect of the undertaking, and I therefore request that you declare me as senior mage for this uncertain, and possibly hazardous, expedition. If not, I prefer to engage in the Quest without the presence of the Great Flame.

"Am I your chosen weapon or not, Lord Horin?"

His eyes, those dark, impenetrable, implacable Questor eyes, bored into Horin's. The force of a Questor's will was renowned throughout the Guild, and the Dominie, powerful as he might be, was a mere Weatherworker.

"You request this, do you, Afelnor? Well, that makes a change!" Horin said, still fuming; however, he looked away after perhaps five seconds. Only another Questor could hope to meet such a gaze for more than a few heartbeats.

"You are adamant in this… request?"

"I am, Lord Horin." Grimm lowered his eyes at last, judging that further continuation of his gaze might constitute a threat.

"You have considered that you may make an enemy of Questor Guy over this? He would expect to have control of the Quest."

"I have, Lord Horin. However, despite the Great Flame's faults, I do not believe he is a man to bear a grudge for long. We have had our arguments before and resolved them. I think we can surmount this particular obstacle, long before we encounter our quarry."

The Dominie blew his nose, leaving a ruddy clot in his brown-stained handkerchief. "In that case, you leave me little option," he said. "Very well; I'll declare you senior mage for the duration of the Quest only. On your return, successful or not, Guy will revert to the seniority due to him."

"What about me, Lord Horin? You said you would help me to clear my family name."

Horin growled, "I'm beginning to regret saying that, Afelnor, but I'll keep my word. You get this Quest, and I'll do what I can to rehabilitate your lineage."

Grimm nodded. "That's more than fair, Dominie; I thank you."

"Do you have any other stipulations, Dragonblaster? I'd rather get them out of the way now, if you don't mind."

"I will need time to prepare, Lord Dominie. I wish to be at the peak of my power when we encounter the Order. For example, on my previous Quests, I believe I suffered from insufficient preparation; I don't want to make that mistake again."

Horin nodded. "That is only prudent. How long will you need?"

"A week?" Grimm hazarded. "A month? In all truth, Dominie, I don't know. I want to cast a few more spells on my staff and try to lay my hands on a few useful protective periapts: an amulet to ward off missiles, for example; and various types of wards for specific threats. I have little idea where to look for such items, although I know they exist."

"I can help you there," Horin said, "High Lodge has a large store of such charms. Give me a list of what you think you require, and I'll try to obtain the items for you under the guise of personal research.