“We wish to use those skills to add to the sum of wizardry,” retorted Usara. “Which cannot always be done when the weighty traditions of Hadrumal unfortunately smother initiative.”
“That’s a grave accusation,” said Troanna sternly. “What manner of initiative are we discussing? The insane depredations of some menace like Azazir?”
“Of course not,” Usara responded tightly.
“Can you show us a good idea coming to naught?” asked Planir mildly, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he relaxed in his chair.
Usara took a breath before continuing. “Consider Casuel, Archmage. When Temar and the Sieur D’Olbriot were assaulted last year, he blocked their attackers’ escape by making the vines of a carved stone gate grow to tangle their hands and feet. It was most impressive magic and I would dearly love to know how he worked it but he has no clear idea. Worse, he refuses to try it again without sanction from the records of some dead wizard to assure him that it’s safe.”
“You intend letting every wild idea run riot on these islands?” Troanna looked sternly at Usara. “Will you keep yourselves sufficiently far from D’Alsennin’s people so you don’t all go up in flames and confusion?”
“We will be taking every precaution against folly, Flood Mistress,” Usara said stiffly. “We’ll use all the safeguards so long proven here. We’re not turning our backs on Hadrumal, just taking a step away.”
Planir spoke just fast enough to stop Kalion’s intemperate response. “You make an interesting point about Casuel. He’s never really realised his potential, has he?” The Archmage looked from Kalion to Troanna. “He isn’t the first we’ve seen unhappily overawed by all the misbegotten, misinterpreted legends that hang round this place.”
“Casuel was twisted by his own inadequacies before he ever reached these shores,” snapped Kalion.
“Maybe so,” Planir allowed. “But who’s to say he might not have put those behind him if he didn’t feel surrounded by predecessors he doubted he could equal? What about Ely, Kalion? She holds back out of fear of failure.” He fixed the Hearth Master with a stern eye. “She’s an affinity as strong as any I’ve seen but busies herself rumour mongering and poisoning people’s lives with her gossip. To be fair, much as I dislike the girl, I simply don’t believe she’s cut out for debating the flaws and merits of theories. She might do far better with a freer rein to apply her abilities as suits her best.” His words were cutting. “Tell me, Troanna, how many apprentices have failed to measure up to your expectations or disappointed you by settling for the limited scope of a hedge mage’s life? I’ve seen far too many scurry off to some mundane town half a day from the high road because that’s what they grew up with and they couldn’t get used to the lofty halls and concerns of Hadrumal.”
“One is one too many,” said Troanna curtly. “I’ll grant you that.”
“You cannot sanction such a renegade enterprise,” cried Kalion. “I won’t allow it. The Council won’t allow it!”
“How will they stop it?” Planir queried mildly. “None of the precepts Trydek laid down for this place preclude mages establishing some other centre of study. None of those precepts entitle the Council to act against other mages. That’s the Archmage’s duty.”
“With the Council to guide him,” snapped Kalion.
“To make sure he isn’t tempted to a course of magical tyranny.” Planir nodded. “Forbidding ’Sar and Shiv’s attempt to broaden the scope of magical learning sounds uncomfortably like tyranny to me.”
“All mages are subject to Hadrumal’s authority.” Kalion glared at Usara.
“Which authority is based on consent, as you are so very fond of reminding me.” Planir sat straighter, looking severe. “If it is seen to be abused for no good reason, that consent will vanish like snow beneath hot sun. Where will wizardry be then?” He thrust a challenging finger at Kalion. “You’re so keen to see magic accepted in the wider world. Won’t seeing wizards helping folk with their everyday business ease the fears and superstitions than bedevil us? Powerful mages from a hidden isle visiting only to closet themselves with lords already holding power of life and death over them don’t exactly reassure the commonalty. I can see other advantages. Wizards at the centre of what promises to be a substantial trading network will very well placed to hear of discord or harmony among the powers of the mainland.”
Kalion struggled for a reply so Planir continued remorselessly.
“Not everyone’s cut out for the learning of Hadrumal but that doesn’t tarnish or devalue it. Study will always have its place, Kalion; I don’t think we need feel threatened by ’Sar’s new venture. In fact, it’ll prove a study in itself to keep the papermakers and bookbinders in work. Has Sannin talked to either of you two about her notion that capacity for mage-craft strengthens with its actual use? She’ll be fascinated to see what comes of ’Sar’s venture.” He glanced at Usara. “Rafrid and Herion will be interested to share a glass of wine with you before you go. They’re interested in exploring merging magic, in a formal nexus and in less structured workings. You and Shiv should share what you’ve learned, even if your workings have been largely luck and accident.” Planir’s tone was one of reproof but that didn’t please Kalion whose face showed suspicion still winning over indignation.
Troanna had other concerns. “This hall or whatever you call it would also be a place for the study of Artifice?”
“You’ve made it clear you consider such studies here a pointless distraction,” Planir answered tersely. “Besides, if such a hall were set up under D’Alsennin’s auspices in Suthyfer, the Emperor would have no reason to charter any new university. As a rival to Hadrumal, I’d have far more concern over a school of Artifice that we had no links with than over Shiv and Usara’s venture where tried and tested friends directed both disciplines.”
“We intend to explore every similarity and difference between aetheric enchantment and our own magic,” said Usara firmly.
Kalion snorted with contempt.
“You don’t think that’s a worthy aim?” demanded Planir. “You don’t want to know how to save yourself from the living death that Otrick suffered or the fatal shock that rebounded upon Larissa? I’ll wager every other mage in Hadrumal would be grateful for such knowledge. A good few will appreciate there being some other focus for Elietimm hatred, if it should ever emerge again. I certainly welcome some bulwark against attack or a sanctuary if Hadrumal itself should ever be struck down. We have all our eggs in one basket, Kalion. Hiding ourselves with mists and magic is all very well but you cannot deny it means we cut ourselves off from the mainland more comprehensively than is good for us. You’ve always been an advocate for greater involvement in the wider world.” He smiled to undercut the harshness of his words. “This argument’s becoming rather circular. Do any of you have anything to add?”
Usara rose to his feet in the resulting silence. “If you’ll excuse me, Archmage, I wish to speak with Aritane.” He couldn’t help glancing at Troanna. “Guinalle has learned something of an ancient rite of exile still practised among the Elietimm. She wishes to appeal to the Sheltya, to argue that they accept it as basis to sentence Aritane to less than death. Then she can come to Suthyfer as well.”
“Wait a moment.” Planir pointed to the table. “Kalion, if you’d be so good as to pass me that ring.” He sat forward, hand outstretched.
Kalion picked up the cord and frowned, examining the silver circle. “Otrick’s ring?”
“Azazir’s before him.” Troanna leaned over to look.
“You’ve ensorcelled it yourself.” Kalion narrowed his eyes at Planir who merely smiled and raised his hand to show the scar burned into his finger.
“Now it’s imbued with three elements out of the four,” mused Troanna. “Only fire remaining.”
“Which will double and redouble its power.” Planir cocked his head. “Kalion?”