“I believe so.”
“Hmm.” Osen put the slip down, then looked up at Vonel again.
“So how did you learn of the Nameless?”
“A novice brought that to me,” Vonel replied, nodding toward the paper.
“And?”
“I asked Carrin to accompany me to the place, so that we could see what manner of establishment this ‘playhouse’ was, and if any members of the Guild had taken advantage of the offer.”
“And what did you find on arrival?”
“Gambling, drinking, roet braziers and women for hire,” Carrin replied. “Lord Reater here losing badly in some new game, Lord Sherran near comatose from inhaling roet smoke. Overall, these two plus twelve novices were engaged in sampling the full range of products on offer.”
Osen picked up a sheaf of paper. “Those listed here.”
“Yes.”
The Administrator scanned the list, then put it aside and looked up at Regin and Sonea.
“And what part did you take, Lord Regin and Black Magician Sonea?”
“I was informed by a concerned novice who had overheard that there may be some mischief taking place, though not of the specifics,” Regin replied. “Knowing that Black Magician Sonea has been taking an interest in the debate over the rule against magicians associating with criminals, I told her what I’d heard in the hopes she had clearer information. She did not.”
“But I went looking for it, when I was free to,” Sonea added. “And I was given an address. I sought permission to leave the Guild and investigate, but by the time it was given several novices and magicians had already been lured to the playhouse.”
“Why did you not arrange for somebody else to go?” Osen asked.
Sonea felt a flare of annoyance. Why shouldn’t she leave the grounds if all she was doing was trying to prevent a few novices and magicians falling into a trap? But plenty of magicians, Osen included, still thought she deserved having her movements restricted as punishment for learning black magic and defying the Guild all those years ago.
“We thought the fewer who knew of this place the better,” Regin replied. “Only yourself and Lord Vonel and Lord Carrin.”
She felt a wave of gratitude, then wry amusement that it was toward Regin, of all people.
Osen was now looking at the list of novices again. “It is too late for that. The Guard have shut down the playhouse, so it is no longer a temptation to anyone. All that remains is to decide the punishment.” He turned to Reater and Sherran, who cringed and looked everywhere except at the other magicians. “You, like all magicians, are supposed to be an example of restraint and appropriate behaviour to those still in their years of learning. You also have a duty to present the Guild as an honourable and trustworthy institution. But it is not long since your graduation, and we all carry some of the foolish tendencies of novices into our first years as magicians. I will give you both another chance to mend your ways.”
The two young men visibly sagged with relief. If they’d had the misfortune of coming from low-class backgrounds the result would have been very different, Sonea thought darkly.
“The novices...” Osen tapped the list. “Should be punished under the rules of the University. I will refer the matter to the University Administrator.”
Oh great, Sonea thought. Knowing my luck they’ll end up at the hospices, where all the vices that got them into trouble are available mere streets away. They’ll slip away as soon as they get a chance and I’ll be blamed for it.
“You acted as you were charged to,” Osen said, nodding to Vonel and Carrin. “I have sent a letter to the Guard thanking them for acting so quickly.” He looked at Regin. “In future we should all work together in order to prevent this sort of thing happening again. You may go.”
Turning away, Sonea walked to the door, opening it with a little magic, and stepped out into the corridor. Regin followed, and they both stopped outside the door and waited until the two young magicians appeared. Sonea moved forward to block their path. Reater and Sherran stared at her in dismay.
She smiled sympathetically. “So you only went there for the roet. What is it about roet, then? What’s so appealing about it that you’d put yourself in the hands of obvious criminals for it?”
Reater shrugged. “It makes you feel good. Not a care.”
Sonea nodded, but she had noticed that Sherran’s expression had shifted to one of longing while Reater only looked resigned. She leaned closer, keeping her voice to a murmur.
“Did Lorkin ever... ?”
Sherran looked at her, then hastily down at the floor again. “Once. He didn’t like it.”
Sonea straightened. He could be lying, afraid she would blame him if he answered otherwise. But then he’d have told me Lorkin had never tried it. I think this is the truth.
“You two are lucky Administrator Osen has chosen to be lenient on this. I wouldn’t test his willingness to be so again.”
They both nodded quickly. She gestured to indicate they could go, and they hurried away.
“Lorkin’s too smart to be caught up in roet-taking,” Regin murmured. “And the same good sense will keep him out of trouble in Sachaka.” He sighed. “I only wish my own daughters had half his maturity.”
She glanced at him, surprised and amused. Lorkin wasn’t any more mature than other young magician his age. But judging by the small amount of gossip she had heard about Regin’s daughters, they were very childish young women. “Still causing you trouble?”
He grimaced. “They take after their mother, though there’s enough cruelty in their rivalry to remind me of myself at their age.” He shook his head. “It’s bad enough looking back and regretting your youthful arrogance without having to then regret your offspring’s as well.”
Sonea chuckled, then started down the corridor. “I hope I never have to experience that for myself. But considering the sort of things I did in my youth, I’d say Lorkin has a long way to go before he makes as great a disgrace of himself as I did.”
Chapter 8
Signs
After two days in the carriage on increasingly bumpy roads, Lorkin felt as if his bones had been shaken into new and impractical arrangements. He kept having to Heal the aches of his body and soothe away headaches, but most of all he was bored. Hours of discomfort had left him too tired and grumpy for conversation, and he’d discovered that the jostling of the carriage on the roads made him ill if he tried to read.
Clearly, the excitement of travel wasn’t in the actual travelling part. It was more likely in the arriving part. Though he suspected by the time they got to Arvice he’d feel more relief than excitement.
Lord Dannyl – or Ambassador Dannyl as he must remember to call him now – endured the ride with a strange kind of happy resignation, which gave Lorkin some hope that it was all worthwhile. Or else this was nothing compared to the discomfort of sea travel, or the chafing of saddles, both which Dannyl had survived during his travels over twenty years before.
Lorkin knew that, over twenty years ago, Dannyl had been ordered by the former Administrator to retrace Akkarin’s journey in search of ancient magical knowledge. The stories Dannyl told were fascinating, and made Lorkin want to visit the Tomb of White Tears and the ruins of Armje himself.
But I am going where neither my father nor Dannyl have been before: the capital of Sachaka.
It would be a completely different Sachaka to the one his father had stumbled into. There would be no Ichani waiting to enslave him. If anything, from what Perler had described, the powerful men and women of the capital, especially the Ashaki patriarchs, would deign to notice an Ambassador’s assistant only reluctantly.