A couple of local lads who must have built their muscles wrestling bullocks proved that big men can put on a burst of speed if they need to and drew level with me. I saw Nyle and another wagoneer heading for me and I whipped my head rapidly from side to side to check where the cow handlers were. One gave me a brilliant smile, nodded to his brother, and I dug my heels into the turf to let them surge past me. They hit Nyle and another wagoneer like a rock-slide and the field ahead was clear. I heard the thunder of hammering feet behind me and knew I only had a moment. Forgetting everything I’ve ever been taught about spear throwing, I sent the length of wood spiraling through the air and saw it smack the bladder high up over the frame before I caught what felt like half a cohort in the small of my back.
When I saw daylight again I spat out a mouthful of grass and some bits of a dried clod I didn’t want to examine too closely, but my sense of elation was uncrushed.
“Good throw!” Livak’s voice cut through the roars of the crowd and I saw her bright hair and lively face close at hand, by the rail.
I waved and blew an extravagant kiss in her direction before scrambling up to avoid getting trampled into the clay. As the game continued I managed another score and took out wagoneers with some vital tackles to help make three more. We finally gave it up after nine runs when everyone was just too tired and no more replacements came forward. I wasn’t sorry; if we’d gone on, I reckoned there was a danger of it degenerating into a brawl, which is one reason it’s a game frowned on in Formalin. The final score was agreed as fifteen heads for the wagon train losing to my team’s twenty-one and the mood suggested no one was disgraced by that. Once we’d scraped off the worst of the mud, everyone moved onto the tap-room where the serious drinking began. I looked around hopefully for Livak, keen to know how much she’d made on the betting.
“Over here!” Shiv stood up from a corner table and I pushed my way through the throng, trying to evade delays for congratulations from my erstwhile team-mates.
Halice poured me an ale and I downed it in one before taking a second a little slower; I didn’t want to drink too much, too fast, not on top of all that exercise.
“I think dinner may be a little slower this evening.” Livak appeared from the direction of the kitchen and pulled up a stool next to me.
“Had a profitable afternoon?” I grinned at her.
“Very!” She flashed a smile at me and patted the billow of her shirt which clinked discreetly.
“Anyway, have either of you heard anything about our friends from the east?” Shiv was suddenly all business, voice low, although I don’t know why he was bothering given the amount of noise all around us.
“I got a good lead on a group in black about a day and a half south of here, but Halice got just as clear a nod on some blond travelers away over near the Linneyway.” I reached for my drink and tried to drag my mind back to our chase.
“When I was taking bets I made out I was asking after a bad debt and was told both tales,” said Livak.
“Where’s that map of yours? Could it be two sightings of the same group?” Halice sounded unconvinced and I didn’t blame her.
“Could they have split up?” I asked.
Shiv shook his head. “I doubt it; Viltred’s been scrying and he’s sure that everything that was taken is still together.”
“I checked and the group I heard about are definitely in local clothes, not any kind of livery,” added Halice. “I’d say we have got the thieves and another pack to worry about now.”
“But are they after us, after Viltred or after the other lot in black?” Livak frowned.
“Or going about some entirely unrelated business?” I took another drink. “It’s always possible.”
“I’ll go and talk to Viltred. He might be able to scry for this other troop if he knows the area himself.” Shiv shot a regretful glance toward the cart-girl Larrel, who was doing the rounds with a tray of bread and cut meats to placate the hungry customers.
Livak caught his arm as he moved. “Not so fast. That guard captain, Nyle, seems very keen to buy Ryshad’s sword. Did you know about that?”
Shiv shrugged. “That’s hardly surprising, is it? It’s an Old Empire sword; those blades are always in demand.”
“Don’t come the festival virgin with me, Shiv, I know you too well.” She shook her head at him. “There isn’t anyone like Darni working the area, is there? Tempting people to sell off the family heirlooms so Planir can investigate them, letting idiots like me involve themselves in your daft schemes? You don’t think I’m going to forget being caught like that, do you?” Her tone was distinctly waspish.
“I doubt it.” Shiv frowned. “I can check, if you like, but I think Planir would have told me, don’t you?”
“Nyle said he has contacts who are looking out for swords like that,” persisted Livak. “The Elietimm were hunting for Old Empire artifacts last year, weren’t they?”
And stealing them, I thought grimly. Messire’s nephew had lost his wits in the beating he’d taken trying to protect the heirloom rings the bastards were after.
“Nyle might not know it himself, but whoever he’s selling to could be tied in with them,” Halice chipped in. “What if he tells them about this sword he couldn’t get hold of? I’d say we should seriously think about selling it. I don’t want to find I’m suddenly on the wrong side of this hunting trip.”
“I know it was a gift from your Messire, Rysh, but it could be putting us all in danger. Selling it might be best.” Livak turned an intense stare on me and I shrugged noncommittally. She and Halice were evidently up to something here.
“I really don’t think we need to think about doing that,” Shiv replied just a little too firmly.
I gave him a curious look. The euphoria that I’d brought in from the paddock started to fade fast; it looked as if there was another game going on here and I started to suspect I was missing a few crucial pieces.
“You don’t want him to sell, do you? Does Ryshad know just what it is that he’s carrying?” Livak’s emerald eyes challenged Shiv, but his gaze slid sideways.
“It’s an Old Empire sword, he knows that.”
“What about the trouble he’s having sleeping?” Halice chipped in.
“Are you hoping to hear all about some peculiar dreams, by any chance, Shiv?” persisted Livak.
“What exactly do you mean by that?” I gripped my goblet and cursed myself for forgetting that the Archmage could well have Shiv trawling for different fish than the rest of us.
“You tell him or I will,” Livak threatened.
“You remember I told you Planir was studying Formalin antiquities, that was what he sent me to Viltred to collect?” Shiv scratched his ear as he struggled for words and I got a feeling I wasn’t going to like what I was about to hear. “I don’t think I mentioned that some of these seem to give their owners strange dreams, detailed visions of the fall of the Empire. The Archmage wants to use them to find out more about the foundation of Hadrumal, which happened about a generation later, when the magic that governs the elements was first properly developed.”
“The mysterious city of wizards, hidden Trimon only knows where, to keep the arts of magic safe from the non-mage-born.” Halice’s tone was distinctly sarcastic.
The corners of Shiv’s mouth twitched downwards, betraying his irritation. “It’s where the Archmage and the most powerful wizards live and study. It’s not really all that arcane.”
“Just as long as it keeps mages away from honest folk,” said Livak cuttingly.
“Most mages find it frees them from the distractions of life among the non-mage-born,” Shiv sniffed a touch pompously.
“What has this got to do with my sword,” I broke in impatiently.