“They are quite functional.”
“Nonetheless I would like to inspect my work.”
Kormak extended his hands carefully. He knew of a great deal of inimical magic that could be worked by touch and he was not wearing his amulets or carrying his blade and he was still not sure how trustworthy any of these people were. The wizard took his hands and turned them over. He squinted as he inspected them. His touch felt cold.
“Very good,” he said at last. “No permanent damage. You will be able to wield a sword with what I assume will be your customary proficiency.”
“Do you expect me to have to anytime soon?”
“An odd question, Guardian.”
“I have been asked a few odd questions since I arrived.” The wizard tilted his head to one side. The amulets on his neck jingled together. “By whom?”
“By yourself. Among others.”
“This is an isolated place, people are naturally curious.”
“I am surprised to find a wizard so far from the haunts of men.”
“Why? Did you think your order had killed all of them in the area?”
Kormak wondered if Tarsus and the Lady Kathea had talked. “It is strange that a scholar should choose to live so far from the great cities and libraries.”
“You are one of those that think wizards only avoid the haunts of men if they have something to hide.”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“And a very suspicious mind it is, I can see. I suppose that is only natural for a man in your profession.”
“Why do you dwell here?”
“I shall have to show you my patron’s library and his collection once you are well, then perhaps you will understand.”
“Your patron?”
“Lord Tomas is a collector of ancient artefacts and a considerable scholar in his own right.”
“Will I be meeting him any time soon?”
“You seem fit enough to be allowed out of bed so I am guessing yes. You will most likely be invited to dine with us.”
Kormak stared hard at the wizard. The old man met his gaze with rheumy eyes. He coughed and once more his lips were speckled with blood. He noticed Kormak looking.
“I have more trouble healing myself than others,” he said. He got up and limped to the door. He stared at Kormak. “I am not the one you are looking for,” he said. “No matter what you think.”
The door closed behind him. Kormak heard it being locked.
Servants brought Kormak clean, warm clothing. It seemed to have been made for a man his height but somewhat larger about the waist. A servant showed him through the manor to the dining hall. Two men at arms accompanied them. Both looked competent and both were armed and armoured and they watched him closely. He suspected there were others within easy call.
The place was larger than he had thought. Corridors ran in many directions and the architectural style belonged to the First Empire, all clean simple lines, not the more ornate gargoyle and Elder Sign encrusted work favoured by those who ruled the West in this age of the world. The place was vast and echoing and seemed half-empty. He saw servants and men-at-arms moving about, enough so that they would have seemed a decent sized retinue for a mid-ranking nobleman in the west. Here they seemed to be lost in the vast draughty space.
All the retainers had a griffon on their tunics and griffon banners adorned the walls. It was worked into some of the ancient stonework too which suggested that either Lord Tomas’s family had been here for a very long time, or possibly more likely, they had taken their heraldic emblem from the iconography of their mansion.
The servant showed him into a huge hall that contained many tables only one of which was occupied. That table, like the others, was large enough to seat scores but there was only four people there, all clustered at the top of the table, where a bard also stood clutching a harp.
He knew three of the people; Tarsus and Lady Kathea and another man, garbed as a wandering mercenary knight. He clearly recognised Kormak. This was one of the thieves Kormak had been sent to hunt down. He had managed to escape back in Saladar. He glared at Kormak. The Guardian was very aware that the man was armed and he was not. The aristocrat at the head of the table must be Lord Tomas. He was a tall, stately looking man, silver-haired and still fit. He had the authority and the manner of a nobleman at his own hearth.
Lady Kathea met his gaze for a moment, flushed slightly then looked away. Kormak wondered what was going on here.
All of them rose, in the courtly, old-fashioned way of country nobles greeting a visitor. All of them bowed and Lord Tomas introduced them all in formal Hardic. The thief was called Wesley here. After the introductions were made, they all sat down while an array of servants brought food and wine.
“Play something for us, Ivan,” Lord Tomas said, and the bard struck up a tune. He played softly and very well. It was a tune Kormak had heard played at the court of King Brand when the elderly wanted to hear a tune popular in their youths.
“You are from Taurea, Sir Kormak,” Lord Tomas said.
“Aquilea, sir,” Kormak replied. He wondered when they would get to the real business of the evening. With Wesley present there could be no doubt Lord Tomas knew who he was and why he was here.
“I thought you were not a Sunlander. Your order has its home in Taurea though, the fortress-monastery on Mount Aethelas.”
“That is so,” said Kormak.
“There are chapter houses in all the Northern Kingdoms,” said Tarsus. “And once a long way beyond. They say the reach of your order is much diminished now although your presence here would seem to prove that wrong.” There was a note of satisfaction in his voice.
Kormak looked at them all. He had a feeling of being hemmed in by enemies. There were guards around the chamber and everyone except him was armed. He was still physically very weak. It seemed impossible that Lord Tomas did not know why Kormak had come. And yet, so far, no one had threatened him. He had been healed and treated with courtesy. It was not what he had expected at all.
“Kormak. It seems to me I have heard that name before,” said Lord Tomas. “A member of your order distinguished himself in the Orc Wars. As I recall a highlander of that name saved the life of King Brendane. Was that you?”
“I was there. I helped defend the King. I did not do it on my own.”
“That is not the way the tales tell it. The way the bards sing of it, you were found standing atop a mountain of orc corpses guarding the wounded King.”
“I was the only survivor of those guarding him at the time. The poets exaggerate the rest.”
“I wonder,” said Wesley. “There are other tales attached to the name, not all of them pleasant ones.”
Lord Tomas made a small, curt chopping gesture with his hands. “Now, Wesley, let us have no unpleasantness at our table. You are all my guests. I would have us all be friends while we are within my hall.”
Wesley smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. Kormak studied him closely. He was a powerfully built man, with very pale skin, which his jet-black hair, beard and brows made seem all the more pale. His manner was lazily confident.
“I was wondering as to the nature of your association,” said Kormak. “How is it that two such disparate individuals know each other?”
It was time to start getting to the bottom of the mysteries here. Lord Tomas looked from Kormak to Wesley and seemed to come to a decision.
“I am a collector, Sir Kormak. I come from a line of collectors. My grandfather started our collection. My father enlarged it and passed it on to me and I have done my humble best to curate and extend it.”
There was real enthusiasm in the older man’s manner.
“What do you collect?” Kormak asked.
“Ancient artefacts. Old books. Objects of mystical significance from all over the world. We have cloaks woven by the Old Ones. I have a library of First Empire tomes and scrolls, all written in High Solari. I have amulets and wands and staves from the Elder world. A runestone said to belong to the Wizard-King Solareon. I have weapons and armour forged by the dwarves when they still did work for men. You possess some very fine examples of those yourself, I could not help but notice when you were brought through my gate.”