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That sent the Archivist on his way with a hasty bow as Avila drummed impatient fingers on a jewelled purse chained at her waist. “The Sieur can manage D’Olbriot’s affairs as he sees fit but we need to discuss our own strategy. Guliel is right in part at least. Temar, you had best spend your day raising D’Alse
She turned to me with an irritated shake of her head. “I was hoping to send you to watch Den Thasnet and follow that odious boy Firon for a start.”
“I can talk to the men as well as setting them weapons drills,” I offered. “Someone may recall something from last night, someone might have heard a rumour worth following up.” Going beyond the Sieur’s immediate commands wasn’t the same as breaking them, was it?
“Master Mage.” Avila rounded on Casuel, who was examining the lamentably empty coffer. “You will have to keep watch on Firon Den Thasnet. He is stupid enough to be indiscreet.”
The wizard’s jaw dropped. “Me?”
“Who else?” demanded Avila. “You were put at my disposal and that is what I wish you to do. The Sieur’s orders for everyone else were plain enough and you will have your elemental talents to assist you.”
“You’re the best man for the job, Casuel,” I pointed out. “No one knows your face, unlike me and Temar.”
“But how am I supposed to find him?” protested the mage. “It’s Festival, he could be anywhere in the city!”
“Scry for him,” said Avila briskly. “That is the correct term, I believe. Or do you need me to use my arts?”
“No, no,” said Casuel with ill grace. “I can manage that.”
“But what of the artefacts?” Temar began pacing in front of the fireplace. “You ca
“No,” agreed Avila, unperturbed. “But I want to know to whom he speaks and, if possible, of what. I refuse to believe all this is just happenstance. If we can track some part of this malice back to its source, perhaps we can put a stop to the whole. Your magic enables you to listen from a distance, wizard, does it not?” That wasn’t a question; Avila had clearly been keeping her eyes open around the mages Planir sent to Kellarin.
Casuel coloured slightly beneath her searching gaze. “Technically, yes, but there are ethical considerations—”
“Take your scruples to Planir, when you ask if he has learned any lore that might help our search. Then apply yourself to Den Thasnet. I will contact Guinalle through Artifice,” she continued, oblivious to Casuel’s outraged expression. “Then, if I can get the Sieur’s permission, I will ask that thief some questions myself. Artifice can loosen an unwilling tongue where threats prove ineffective.”
“No, my lady. That is, Temar—” Nausea thickened in my throat as I recalled the Elietimm enchanter searching my memory, breaking open cherished recollections, scattering hopes and fears to be crushed beneath brutal sorceries. Bluffing a man with fast talking and Temar’s modest skills was one thing, truly setting Artifice on the man was quite another.
“I beg your pardon?” Avila looked at me in astonishment. Behind her I could see Temar looking aghast, frantically signalling me to silence.
“Only if there’s no other way,” I amended my protest hastily. “Word would be bound to get out and with the prejudice there is against magic, the notion that Artifice forced a man to talk—forgive me but most people would find that repellent. If Artifice is to rise above popular prejudice about magic—”
“Ryshad Tathel, let me tell you—”
A knock at the door saved me from the wrath building in Avila’s face. Dolsan Kuse stuck his head into the room and looked at Temar. “Excuse me, but Esquire Camarl’s valet is looking for you and he’s not in the best of tempers.”
“Camarl or the valet?” asked Temar sarcastically, but he was already on his way to the door. I followed him, bowing to Avila but avoiding her eye.
“Very well, go on, all of you,” she said ominously. “Do not come back until you have something of use to report. No, Ryshad, on second thoughts, wait.”
I halted reluctantly. “Demoiselle?”
“I want to see that hand.”
I walked over to her slowly, undoing the bandage as I went. “It’s not so bad.”
“Nonsense,” she said tartly. “And there is neither virtue nor heroism in suffering u
My arm and hand grew warm, not painfully but with the unmistakable, u
But all that happened was the slow evaporation of the aching tenderness that had been catching me unawares with sharp jibes of pain all morning. The tingling sensation faded to nothing and the heat in my knuckles subsided to no more than a healthy glow, as if I’d been working the hand sparring. I looked down as Avila released me with a satisfied nod. The bruising had faded to no more than a faint discoloration and all the swelling was gone. I picked at the redundant stitches with a curious fingernail. Anyone would have sworn the cut was ten days healed.
“The Sieur’s surgeon can take those out,” Avila instructed.
“Thank you,” I managed to say with a fair degree of composure.
“When we have leisure, we must discuss your own prejudices about aetheric magic, never mind those of the populace,” Avila said softly, her eyes searching mine.
“I had better go,” said Temar from the threshold. “I’ll come and find you when I get back.” Casuel hovered, unable to decide if he could go or stay.
“Is there something else?” Avila settled herself at the table. “If not, I will contact Guinalle.”
“Come on, Casuel.” I ushered the wizard out of the room and shut the door firmly behind us.
“We have perfectly effective healing magics in Hadrumal, you know,” he said with faint envy.
“I’m sure you do.” I realised I was rubbing the healed knuckles into my other palm and stopped. “But do you have anything to find the stolen artefacts?”
“What exactly did she do? What did you feel?” Casuel was still looking at my hand so I shoved both in my breeches pockets.
“She stopped it hurting, which is good enough for me. Hadn’t you better bespeak Planir? Find out what he suggests—and find out if Livak’s discovered anything useful on her travels.” I spared a moment for a fleeting regret that I hadn’t gone with her. A summer spent peaceably tramping through forests and mountains would surely have been preferable to all this confusion.
Casuel sniffed and stalked off down the corridor, back stiff with indignation. I watched him go then went off to make myself unpopular with the men I’d so recently been serving with. In some lights, this new rank was starting to look a rather tarnished prize.