The Complete Rhenwars Saga: An Epic Fantasy Pentalogy

by M. L. Spencer

  “I thought Masters couldn’t drink to excess,” Merris sighed in frustration as she turned away from him, giving up the fight.

  “Let me assure you, I can drink well beyond excess,” he responded tartly as he moved to pour himself another cup. Gazing down at the amber liquid, he swirled the fluid around with his hand. “Strong liquor dulls the perception of the magic field,” he explained quietly. “Most mages don’t appreciate the loss of that sensation.”

  Merris narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “But you do. Why?”

  He downed the liquid in one swallow. Then he moved away from her back toward the window. Merris allowed her eyes to follow his gaze. Through the many-colored beads, she could make out the orange glow of sunset streaking the western sky.

  Softly, he asked her, “How well do you know my brother?”

  Merris frowned, turning her attention back to him. “Your brother? Not very well at all, I’m afraid.”

  He was still staring out the window, watching the slow changes that were taking place across the sky. The shadows were lengthening, orange and golden hues giving way to streaks of pink and vermillion.

  “Oh, hell.” Quin set his cup down with an air of finality, turning his stare toward the wall. “It’s time to deliver that last letter you carry.”

  Merris’ eyes widened with understanding. The third letter Braden had given her was addressed to Prime Warden Zavier Renquist. He had called it a last resort.

  “Something’s gone wrong, hasn’t it?” she asked.

  Quin nodded, then muttered ruefully, “I suppose I should go try to make myself look presentable.”

  He started to wander toward the bedchamber but then stopped and turned back around. His hand came up to his chin as he stood there, gazing at Merris appraisingly. He slowly shook his head.

  “Oh, my. That’s never going to do, is it?”

  His eyes moved over the floor in a searching pattern. It took him a while to find whatever he was looking for in the pile of fabric Merris had gathered for a bed. Reaching down, he scooped up a handful of rumpled garments and practically dumped them into her hands.

  “Wear this,” he advised her.

  Merris had no idea what he was talking about. Perplexed, she stared down at the bright wad of fabric he had shoved her way. Fingering the silk, it took her a moment to realize that what she was holding was a thin but elegant dress. There were also pants, as well as a shawl-like wrap. It finally dawned on her: these must be the clothes that the whore had left behind. Merris’ mouth dropped open in dismay.

  “You can’t be serious,” she started to protest, shaking her head and offering the clothes back toward him.

  Apparently he was. Quin raised his hands in the air in a gesture of refusal. “Well, it’s not like she’s coming back for them,” he argued spiritedly. “You may as well.” In response to the look on her face, he pressed, “You certainly can’t go out in what you’re currently wearing. You’d look ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous?” Merris echoed, feeling honestly offended. The dress she wore, though slept in, had been one of Master Sephana’s finest gowns. The woman actually had taste. “You’d rather me dress as a prostitute?”

  “An expensive prostitute,” Quinlan Reis corrected her acidly. “Just do us both a favor and wear the damned clothes.”

  He turned and headed back in the direction of the bedroom, picking his way carefully over piles of filth.

  Merris waited for a moment to make certain that he was gone, then slipped quickly out of Sephana’s yellow dress and donned the outfit he’d given her, running her fingers through her hair.

  The new dress was actually very beautiful. It was sleeveless and flowing. The colors were brilliant: saffron at the top fading to turquoise at the bottom of the skirt, embroidered with a pattern of blue branches full of leaves. The pants were made of bright-blue silk.

  Merris could not figure out what to do with the other piece of fabric, a wide strip of royal blue that was longer than she was tall. It was too long to be draped like a scarf, and she had no idea how to wear it. She tried to wrap it a couple of different ways, eventually giving up.

  The sound of Quin’s laughter behind her made her startle. Whirling, she found him staring at her from the doorway. “Never wrapped a dupatta before?” he wondered with a roguish grin.

  Merris was stricken speechless. With clothes on, Grand Master Quinlan Reis was actually almost handsome. He was wearing the standard indigo robe of the Lyceum, the same as Merris had seen his brother wear on countless occasions. But over the robe, Quin had donned an embroidered vest girthed by a sash of golden silk. In his hand he held a black felt hat of a style inspired by the Rhen. He had actually washed up, even shaved his beard into a well-groomed mustache. His cheeks still looked flushed from the passage of the blade. His dark hair was wet, combed back away from his face. He was still quite gaunt; no amount of grooming could fix that. But to Merris, the improvement was vast.

  “You look … respectable.” Merris attempted a smile in his direction as he strolled forward.

  He relieved her of the long strip of fabric, spreading it out before him in his hands. He then proceeded to drape the long material over her shoulder, letting it fall down across the front of her body before bringing it up again from behind to achieve a crisscross effect.

  “What is it for, exactly?” Merris tried to clarify, spreading the fabric out by extending her arm away from her body.

  “How the hell should I know?” He shrugged, stepping back with a critical stare. “That looks about right. Are you ready, then?”

  “I’m hungry,” Merris admitted plaintively. “Is there any way we could get something to eat along the way?”

  Quin sucked in a cheek, nodding thoughtfully. “I suppose we could,” he allowed. He offered his hand to Merris. “Shall we, then?”

  She accepted his offered hand and allowed him to lead her toward the door, picking her way carefully. Once outside, Merris pulled up short, halting on his doorstep.

  She closed her eyes and breathed in the heady scent of the city. The smell of the ocean was strong in her nostrils, the warm night air thick with salt and humidity. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. And all around her, surrounding them on every side, were the walls and towers of Bryn Calazar, the brightly lit terraces draped with hanging vines and greenery.

  “It’s amazing,” she whispered. She wandered away toward a low wall and gazed over the balustrade. Far below, an ocean wave broke against the seawall, sending spray high enough for her to feel the mist.

  “I never knew that a place like this could even exist.”

  Quin took her by the arm and maneuvered her away from the edge. “You’re hungry, remember?”

  “I am,” she sighed as she let him lead her forward down a tiled walkway. They turned a corner then emerged onto a busy thoroughfare.

  Merris allowed Quin to guide her out into the bustling city street. There were crowds of people moving by, walking every which direction, and yet somehow a bubble of space seemed to just open up around them and let them pass. To Merris’ amazement, she saw that people were actually stopping at the sight of Quin’s robes and moving backward out of his way, yielding him room to pass.

  Quin tipped his hat at the occasional passerby, but otherwise moved through the streets without any acknowledgement of the deference being paid to him by the citizens of Bryn Calazar. Merris could only gaze in wonder at the scene unfolding around her; it was so distinctively foreign. She had never seen the like, not in Aerysius, not anywhere.

  “It’s almost as if you’re a prince,” she said wonderingly, staring around in amazement.

  He shook his head dismissively. “It’s status,” Quin corrected her. “This entire society is utterly obsessed by it. It’s like a caste system, only you’re not born into it. You can fight and claw your way to the top if you have it within you. Or you can just put on one of these wretched robes.”

  “So being a mage of the Lyceum confers its
own status?”

  He grinned at her wryly. “There’s only two classes of people in Caladorn: those who have the potential to sense the magic field and those who can’t. Those who can’t serve those who can. People like you and I, we are the royalty here. Caladorn knows nothing of kings and queens, pawns and princes.” He gestured around expansively with his hand. “The heroes of this land are warriors and magicians, whether real or imagined.”

  He drew her toward the side of the boulevard and stopped at the stall of a street vendor that had skewers of meat roasting over a woodfire grill. Quin spent a good amount of time haggling with the woman tending the meat, at last procuring two skewers of lamb. He took one for himself and handed the other over to Merris. She bit into the lamb gratefully, to her delight finding the meat savory and delicious.

  “Is there anything in this city that’s not exquisite?” She laughed with a surge of joy. They strolled onward through the market, Merris taking in the vibrant colors and energy of Bryn Calazar as she dined. And then, as they rounded a corner, she saw a sight so spectacular that it stopped her in her tracks.

  Up ahead on the cliffs overlooking the ocean rose a massive stone structure, a palace of such majesty and vastness that Merris had never before imagined its equivalent. Not even the Hall of the Watchers in Aerysius could rival it. It was a massive edifice, a glorious cascade of domes flanked by tall minarets, one at every corner. Each of the domes was spectacularly wrought and looked to have been tiled in purest gold. Its curvaceous walls were lit with many-colored tendrils of magelight writhing upward from the ground.

  “Is that…?” Merris gasped.

  Quin nodded. “The Lyceum of Bryn Calazar.”

  Merris stared, stricken speechless by the view. Strangely, the sight of the Lyceum filled her with only confusion. Merris glanced again at the man beside her, then let her gaze wander back to the stately domed structure with its fragile arcades and graceful minarets. She shook her head, unable to understand how one could ever be a product of the other.

  “Tell me,” she pressed at last. “How did you end up … the way you ended up?”

  Beside her, Quinlan stopped in his tracks, sucking in a deep breath as his eyes rose musingly toward the imposing walls of the Lyceum.

  He said quietly, “Since I can remember, I’ve always had a problem avoiding temptation. It’s a character defect, I suppose. A flaw in my personality. There’s just something about the forbidden that I find unbearably seductive.”

  Merris frowned. “I don’t understand. What did you do?”

  Quin spread his hands as if for once at a complete loss for words. After a long moment of searching, he finally managed to admit, “I simply can’t resist the irresistible.”

  Then he was moving again, guiding Merris by the arm toward the billowing array of domes as the citizens of Bryn Calazar backed deferentially out of his path.

  The road that they traveled took them up the hill toward the cliffs overlooking the ocean. For the first time, Merris had a good view of the harbor and the sea. The broad expanse of ocean was calm and black, unfolding before them toward the horizon. An exceptionally bright star glowed low overhead in the eastern sky, larger than all the others.

  As they passed through the tall gateway into the Lyceum’s outer courtyard, Merris was reminded of the Arches of Aerysius that guarded the entry to the Hall of the Watchers. The Lyceum’s portal consisted of a carved, horseshoe-shaped arch that was held aloft by a matching set of carved marble pillars. Like the Arches of Aerysius, the Lyceum’s outer gate was more than just ornamentation; it was a ward. No person insensitive to the pulse of the magic field could enter through that doorway.

  Merris felt a familiar prickling sensation as she passed across the threshold of the portal. The brightly lit courtyard beyond was flanked by grand successions of arcaded walkways. No one appeared to be about; for all its splendor, the Lyceum appeared starkly empty.

  “Where are we going?” Merris whispered as Quin led her through a side door almost hidden in the forest of columns.

  “The office of the Prime Warden is this way. It’s not under the Grand Dome,” Quin explained.

  “Then what is?” Merris wondered.

  “The Lyceum’s Circle of Convergence,” he answered matter-of-factly.

  Merris nodded. The eight Circles of Convergence were the strongest objects of power that existed anywhere in the world. Within each Circle were lines of power that formed two four-pointed stars, one offset against the other. Together, the twin stars of a Circle of Convergence formed what was known throughout the world as the Silver Star.

  The rays of a Silver Star worked like a giant magical focus, collecting the vast power of a vortex into one single point at the center. At such a place, all of the energy of a vortex could be harnessed by one single Master, one strong enough to control such a vast well of power. Some Circles were inherently stronger than others; these were the Greater Circles. The Greater Circles of Aerysius, Bryn Calazar and Vintgar were the most powerful foci of magic anywhere in the world.

  “Is it … Quinlan Reis…?”

  Merris turned toward the sound of a female voice and found an elegant, middle-aged woman striding toward them across the hallway.

  “That’s Grand Master Quinlan Reis,” Quin corrected the woman with a sardonic grin. “How have you been, Gertris? I just need a quick audience with the Prime Warden, if you don’t mind—nothing that will take too much of his time, I assure you.”

  The woman frowned, shaking her head. “The Prime Warden is quite busy—”

  Somehow, Quin managed to retain his smile without faltering. “It’s a matter of terrible urgency, you see.”

  The woman appeared suddenly flustered. Instead of waiting for her to respond, Quin started forward, brushing past her. “Actually, if he’s in there right now, I’ll just go on ahead—”

  “You know better than that, Quinlan Reis, Grand Master or no!” the woman’s voice called after them as Merris jogged to catch up.

  Quin didn’t slow his pace at all. Leaning into her, he whispered in Merris’ ear, “Trust me.”

  Despite the woman’s loud objections, Quin strode across the hallway and thrust open a door in the wall, leading her through by the wrist. Inside, Merris found herself in a dimly lit corridor. Quin paused, his finger pointing from one door to the next as if trying to remember which was the one he wanted. At last, he nodded to himself and moved forward.

  Merris found herself being propelled through a doorway by the force of his hand on her shoulder. Then Quin caught her arm, dragging her downward with him toward the ground.

  It took her a moment of disorientation before Merris could figure out what he was doing. Quin was forcing them both to the floor to assume the mandatory position of abasement that was required before any Prime Warden. Merris’ body knew instantly what to do; she dropped to her knees and bent forward until her forehead brushed against the floor. There was a long moment of silence while they both held their positions.

  She dared not move. She dared not look up or even glance around. She wasn’t even certain that there was anyone else with them in the room. But by the unspoken rules of protocol, there was nothing else she could do. Merris had no choice but to kneel there, abased with her palms and head resting against the floor, for however long it took to be acknowledged.

  It took a long time. For over a minute she remained in that position, listening to the echoing sounds of her own heartbeat.

  Finally, a deep and authoritative voice resonated throughout the chamber:

  “You may rise.”

  The sound of that voice was disturbingly familiar. Merris found herself complying automatically with the directive, rising first to her knees, then to her feet. She took a step backward behind Quin. Her eyes wandered around the chamber in subtle confusion, scanning the shadows of the dimly lit room for the face of the man who had addressed them.

  At first glance, the room appeared to be empty. But then the Prime Warden of the Lyceum, Za
vier Renquist, stood up and approached.

  “Grand Master Quinlan Reis,” resonated the deeply baritone voice that was so oddly familiar. “It is good to see you again; you have been away from us far too long this time.”

  Merris watched with a sensation akin to awe as Prime Warden Renquist reached out a hand and clasped her companion’s forearm in a warm gesture. Renquist was a tall man with long brown hair that he wore pulled back sharply from his face. Like Quin, he wore the indigo robes of the Lyceum. But from Renquist’s broad shoulders hung the white cloak that was the emblem of his office. A brace of tapers high above on the wall cast a dance of shadow across the angular planes of his face.

  Quin cleared his throat, eyes apparently unable to meet the harsh intensity of Renquist’s gaze. “I apologize for my dereliction of duty, Prime Warden,” he said, staring down at the ground. “I am afraid that my health has been somewhat compromised of late.”

  The thin smile that appeared on Zavier Renquist’s lips was almost fatherly. “But you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

  Quinlan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yes, I suppose you’re correct,” he nodded, holding his hat in his hands. He turned, gesturing toward Merris. “Please allow me to introduce my lovely companion, Merris Bryar. Merris was an acolyte of Aerysius until just yesterday. She was witness to an unfortunate incident that has caused her to rethink her allegiance.”

  Renquist’s eyes shot instantly toward Merris. His stare was hawk-like and intense, fiercely inquisitive. Merris felt like her every nuance was being probed by the harsh severity of that gaze.

  Zavier Renquist said, “I take it that your presence here is without the knowledge or consent of your own Prime Warden.”

  It was not a question, but rather a statement of plain, simple fact. Merris couldn’t tell whether the man was pleased or displeased. His expression gave away absolutely nothing of his emotions or intent.