Juliet McKenna - The Assassin's Edge

Kalion was visibly knocked off his stride. “Azazir?”

“Yes.” Planir drew the word out absently. “A menace and a madman but the man had some undeniably interesting ideas.” He shook his head. “I’d dearly love to know how he summoned that dragon of his but I fear that secret died with Otrick.”

“More’s the pity.” Unfeigned regret creased Kalion’s fat face. “Have you found any hints?” Avid, his gaze fastened on the little book.

“Not as yet.” Planir shut the journal with a snap. “But I think it might make an interesting project. I’ve been considering the role of Archmage, in the light of what you and Troanna had to say. I’m forced to the rather lowering conclusion that my predecessors and I have spent far too little time actually adding to the sum of wizardry. We become so caught up in the trivia of Hadrumal’s daily life that we forget Trydek’s first and foremost requirement for this office.” He looked expectantly at Kalion.

The Hearth Master plucked a stray thread from the front of his velvet gown. “Trydek laid down many precepts when he first brought his school of wizards here. What precisely are you referring to?”

Planir smiled. “That the Archmage lead the exploration of combining the four elements in quintessential magic”

Kalion took a chair by the table without waiting for invitation. “That’s an interesting proposal.”

“It’s a long-neglected duty of my office.” Planir wasn’t smiling any more. “It’s my firm intention to make amends.”

“Is this why you summoned Herion and Rafrid just now? And Sannin.” Kalion’s indignation imperfectly masked his suspicion. “To explore the potential of the nexus as Archmage, you should work with those mages pre-eminent in each element.”

“As Troanna keeps reminding me, we don’t have a nexus of mastery, do we?” Planir turned abruptly brisk. “We’ve had that out more than often enough. I hope something more interesting brings you here on this sunny afternoon?”

Kalion did his best to recover the determination that had propelled him up the stairs. “I understand you’ve had that Aritane woman in here.” He glanced at the scrying bowl with sharp mistrust.

“I see Ely still spends more time at her window than at her books.” The Archmage met Kalion’s gaze with level challenge. “I’d appreciate you moderating your tone. You make it sound as if I were taking my pleasure with her bent over that table. Why should I not consult with the one expert on Artifice we have when the Elietimm threaten us all once more?”

“What has she told you?” demanded Kalion. “What’s going on? We have a right to know, me and Troanna and all the Masters of the Halls.”

“Across the ocean?” Planir shrugged. “You know how dangerous it would be to scry or bespeak any of the mages out there—”

“Have you any notion what Shiv or Usara might be up to?” Frustration soured Kalion’s expression. “You know they hired a ship full of ruffians culled from dockyards the length of the ocean coast?”

Planir nodded, unperturbed.

“They could be working all manner of magic to the incalculable detriment of wizardry.” Kalion glared at him. “A great many people disapprove of you letting them take themselves off unsanctioned by the Council to involve themselves in D’Alsennin’s affairs.”

“I’d be interested to learn who feels entitled to criticise me in such a high-handed fashion.” Planir looked at Kalion expectantly but the red-faced mage sat obstinately silent. The Archmage shrugged and continued, puzzled. “I don’t understand your objection. You’ve spent years arguing that Hadrumal’s isolation must end, that we must involve ourselves in the concerns of the wider world. You’ve argued most convincingly that this threat from the Elietimm gives us our opportunity to show what we can do to help and defend the non-mageborn.”

“Under the guidance of the Council,” snapped Kalion. “Always.”

“That’s so often been the sticking point though.” Planir shook his head regretfully. “Everyone from princes down to pigmen mistrusts mages with their first loyalty to this mysterious Council and all its hidden loyalties and purposes.” The Archmage’s expression was guileless. “Of course, with Artifice to call on, they need not risk that. I rather fear that Artifice may be our undoing without any need for the Elietimm to attack.”

“What do you mean?” Kalion was suspicious.

“I have heard,” Planir raised a hand before tucking it smoothly back in his pocket, “but bear in mind this is only rumour, that Tadriol has been making overtures to the mentors of Vanam.”

“What kind of overtures?” demanded Kalion instantly.

“I believe he’s offering them an Imperial charter to found a new university in a city of their choice,” Planir said thoughtfully. “Where scholars can cull whatever lore remains among the litany of Tormalin temples, from archive sources like that song book the girl Livak found, and whatever else may be hidden in the records of the great Houses.” Planir sighed. “Add whatever aetheric knowledge Demoiselle Tor Priminale cares to share and I imagine Tadriol will have his own coterie of enchanters soon enough—and those all bound to him with ties both of gratitude and more material debt.”

Kalion chewed on the unpalatable prospect for a moment before returning to the attack. “That’s all the more reason to rein in Shiv and Usara before they discredit wizardry in the Emperor’s eyes.”

Planir smiled. “You need not concern yourself. I do have some news from Suthyfer—”

“You said you dared not scry,” objected Kalion furiously.

“You didn’t let me finish that sentence either.” Planir’s voice was cool. “Thanks to the good offices of the Sheltya maiden Aritane, I can assure you that Shiv and Usara have been working considerable magic that can only resound to Hadrumal’s credit.”

Kalion struggled but had to ask the question. “What have they been doing?”

“All in good time.” Planir waved the hand bearing the ring of his office. “I’m glad you came to see me because I’m more than a little concerned about Aritane. She doesn’t complain but I hear from several sources that Ely continues to be vocal in her contempt for Artifice in general and for Aritane in particular.”

“Who’s been saying such things?” asked Kalion with a fair approximation of casual enquiry.

“It’s enough that I’ve been told; I don’t care to fan the flames of any feuds Ely may be carrying on.” A hint of contempt coloured the Archmage’s tone. “You might warn your protégée such behaviour does her no credit with wizardry at large and risks my disapproval in particular. I would tell her myself but she’d probably consider me biased against her, after the way she has delighted in spreading unkind gossip about Larissa.” Planir smiled thinly. “She’d be right at that but we’ll save that for another day”

Kalion cleared his throat, embarrassed. “I will speak to the girl.”

“I’d appreciate it. If Aritane becomes too unhappy here, there’s every possibility she’ll retreat to Vanam or whatever new seat of learning Tadriol founds for the study of Artifice. After all, visiting scholars are often the only people being halfway civil to her.” Planir looked thoughtful. “Sheltya learning would be a considerable addition to whatever aetheric lore Tadriol might amass.”

The Hearth Master’s scowl boded ill for the hapless Ely. “I’ll see to it.”

“I’d appreciate it.” Planir picked up his book again but set it down as if a sudden thought had struck him. “There’s something else you can do for me. Well, for Velindre, really.”

“What might that be?” Kalion was puzzled.