“Well, he slew the dragon with the help of your comrades-in-arms, who were sadly killed in the process. Since then—”
“I don’t need a reason or an explanation, your Grace,” Vachon said. “In fact, I prefer not to have them. Just give the order, and I’ll carry it out. Life’s simpler that way.”
Amaury smiled. This was exactly the type of man he liked working with.
“He was last seen in Venne. Chasing these new dragons, I expect.”
Vachon nodded. “What am I arresting him for?”
“Murder. Treason. Does it matter?”
Vachon smirked. “What if I can’t take him alive?”
“Kill him if you have to, but only if you have to. I don’t care if you have to knock him about a bit first. In fact, I’m happy for you to put some manners on him. It’ll be a taste of what’s to come.”
Vachon sighed. “Sad to see one of the greats fall like that. Some people just can’t seem to stay ahead, can they.”
Amaury raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for the sympathetic type, Commander.”
“Not sympathy,” Vachon said. “Just a little theory of mine about fame, and those who’re hungry for it. Nothing good ever comes from it. Mark my words.”
Amaury smiled. “Indeed. That brings me to the other thing. I need to borrow one of your people. Someone handy with a blade who can work as a bodyguard.”
Vachon thought for a moment. “I have someone well suited to such work.”
“Marvellous,” Amaury said. “I wish you well and look forward to hearing of your success.”
He left Vachon, returning to Solène, who was waiting for him at the carriage.
“Do you have everything you need to start searching for these nodes you spoke of?”
Solène nodded. “I think so.”
“Good. Vachon has delegated one of his men to accompany you.” He took a purse from his belt. “This should cover whatever expenses you might incur. I think it best if you start your search now, rather than return to the city with me. Things might get difficult there in coming days, so it’s best if you are away and working, rather than cooped up at the Priory.”
CHAPTER 40
“Banneret Olivier, at your service.”
Solène looked him over. He was every bit the type of man who had come into the Order in the past few weeks—a military figure rather than one of the more eclectic types that had previously filled the ranks.
“You’ll do what I say, when I say it,” she said. “We’ll go where I say. Understand?”
“Those were my orders, Sister. I intend to follow them.”
“Good,” Solène said, somewhat surprised at his attitude.
“Might I ask where we’re going?”
Solène shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure yet. I know the direction and have an idea of what I’m looking for, but I’m not sure how far we’ll need to go and I’m not sure if we’ll ever find it.” She was lying, but felt no need to be honest.
“We certainly won’t find whatever it is by just standing here.”
“Very true,” Solène said. “Are you ready to leave?”
“I’ll get my horse.”
Solène watched him go and wondered where his loyalties lay, then wondered why she was even asking the question. She lived in a nest of vipers now, and assuming everyone was about to bite her would rarely see her wrong.
Being far from others would be the perfect opportunity to experiment with more powerful magic. So long as she didn’t overdo it and endanger herself, there would be no one else to harm. Other than Olivier, of course. She had to get rid of him. The question was, how?
A horse had been brought for her; she considered jumping onto it and galloping for the horizon, but couldn’t see that working out well. There were too many people around who were sure to stop her. She’d just given them a range of protections that she couldn’t claim to fully understand. It was possible that she had given them defences against all forms of magic, not just the dragon variety.
Olivier returned, a chivalrous smile on his face. “I’m ready, Sister,” he said.
“Perfect.” Without another word she mounted and urged her horse into a canter. They rode south, because that was the direction the animal was already facing. The nodes were said to be in remote places, so why not start with the mountain regions? When she reached the foothills, she would skirt along them until she detected something, or until it became clear they were wasting their time.
“A fine day, don’t you think?” Olivier said, after they had ridden a short distance, and the sun had broken the horizon. “I always love this time of ye—”
“I need to concentrate,” Solène said. Days of magically provided rest rather than proper sleep had her feeling strained and irritable. “Spells, and whatnot. Wouldn’t want them going wrong.”
He blanched at the mention of magic, then shut his mouth and kept it shut, much to Solène’s satisfaction. She wasn’t being entirely churlish and untruthful, either—she needed to work out how she was going to find the temple and what she was going to do when she did. She was growing ever more uncomfortable with the extent of the Prince Bishop’s ambition. This was her chance to get to the temple first and make sure the Prince Bishop never got his hands on the knowledge it might contain.
It occurred to her, as they rode, that perhaps the old Imperial mages hadn’t really needed any of what the temple offered. They already had all the power anyone could have wanted. Perhaps the temple was nothing more than a historical curiosity to them and they hadn’t been all that committed to finding it.
For her and others at this time, circumstances were rather different. If the temple held the key to instant power or to unlocking more from the Cup, as the Prince Bishop seemed to suspect, she definitely wanted to get there first. For some time now she had lived with the fact that she could easily kill not only a great many other people, but also herself. That had taught her both fear and respect. The Prince Bishop had learned neither of those lessons, and she suspected he didn’t have any difficulty with the idea of blowing up a number of unfortunate bystanders as he played with his new power.
The alternate scenario, in which he learned how to control that power and bend it to his will, was even more terrifying. If she got there first, she could ensure that neither eventuality came to pass.
She was all for people learning to use magic again, and felt the Order was as good a vehicle for that as any, provided the magics were used in an altruistic way. However, she felt magic should be learned slowly, with lots of trial and error at low levels of power that wouldn’t lead to catastrophic results.
Amatus had had the enlightened to guide his way. He was able to pass his learning on to others. Despite what Solène assumed were good intentions at the start, eventually power had completely corrupted the Imperial mages. Magic had ended up limited to an elite body of people, to the exclusion of all others. It was easy to see how that had led to the horrors of sorcery that were still whispered about to this day. Might the Order be able to avoid that same fate? It was a question she couldn’t answer. Regardless, magic was in the world, and past mistakes couldn’t change that, nor stop its return.
She turned her attention back to her task, revelling in how much clearer her senses felt now that she had greater mastery of her mind. She recalled how Leverre had described the Cup to her, and how it had felt the first time she had sensed it, like a knot of threads in a sheet of cloth. By all accounts, the nodes were possessed of energy on an entirely different scale. If they still existed, surely they would be easy to find. She took advantage of Olivier’s silence, and let her mind drift out, not actively seeking the Fount, but accepting that it was there, like the ground beneath her feet. She could feel it with her mind’s eye, sensing its ripples and creases, the places where it pooled like drifting snow in winter and the barren patches that the wind stripped bare.