The Thief's Gamble

by Juliet E. McKenna

  'If it's anything like back home, that should be enough to find him. Everyone knows everyone else's business in a village that size,' Allin said timidly.

  Casuel looked at her thoughtfully. 'Local gossips would make hay with something like that, wouldn't they? I know my mother and her sewing circle would. I suppose there would be an inn where I could ask a few questions without arousing too much suspicion.'

  Indignation rose in Casuel's throat and he washed it away with a long draught of ale. 'How dare Ralsere and Darni think of robbing Lord Armile? Friern's one of the few fiefdoms between here and Col where the roads don't leave coaches bogged to the axles and horses muddied to the hocks! They're some of the safest roads around too, come to that; remember those footpads we saw being pelted in the stocks outside that market-hall?'

  'Yes I do!' The edge to Allin's tone surprised Casuel until he realised what value a family driven from their home by the chaos of civil war would place on the rule of law.

  He stared across the room, eyes looking far beyond the lime-washed walls. After a long moment, he straightened up in his seat.

  'I could make some enquiries of this chamberlain fellow, there could be no harm in that. If it turns out that Lord Armile has some of the books Usara wants, why shouldn't I approach him openly? Raeponin rewards the ready, that's what they say, isn't it?'

  'Is it?' Allin looked blankly at him.

  Casuel began to pace back and forth across the uneven floorboards, audacity born of long-held resentments gradually winning over his natural caution. 'I've got to bring myself to Usara's attention, I've just got to, and that means throwing the runes at a venture, doesn't it?'

  He stopped, turned on his heel with a decisive air, and reached under his coat for a fat pouch of coin. 'It'll be squandering the Archmage's coin in lush coaching inns that leaves Ralsere having to steal books rather than buy them like an honest man.'

  He sorted the noble coin in front of him with a sneer on his face. 'I can simply ask to look at his library and then offer a fair price for those things we're looking for. Why not? Lord Armile's sure to be a reasonable man. He's nobly born after all, even if he is just some Ensaimin hedge-lord.'

  A superior smile curved Casuel's full lips. 'I don't think we need complicate matters by telling him we're wizards. I find travelling as a dealer in books is sufficient explanation.'

  His smile faded a little and he frowned. 'You know, Allin, I wouldn't want you talking to anyone about this when we get to Hadrumal, not until I've had a chance to speak privately to Usara. This sort of thing could reflect very poorly on the dignity of wizardry if word got around. Obviously I have a duty to make sure action is taken to prevent Shivvalan and his associates making such a reckless design in future, but I wouldn't want it to look as if I were simply bearing tales about a fellow pupil. I'll need to choose my moment carefully. Usara's project must be important if the Archmage is involved, however peripherally, and that means it warrants co-operation rather than confrontation between mages. Do you understand?'

  She nodded hastily. 'Of course. I won't say a word to anyone.'

  Casuel smiled approvingly at her unquestioning obedience.

  'You'll do very well in Hadrumal, my dear. You have a quick mind and the right attitude. I will make sure you get tuition at one of the best Halls.'

  That should be easy enough to arrange, once he had impressed Usara, hobbled Shivvalan's horses for him and secured the proper recognition that had unaccountably eluded him for so long.

  The echo of a remembered ache stirred in Casuel's jaw. There was still the question of Darni. Hadn't he been the last one left standing in one of Hadrumal's dockside inns when those sailors had challenged all comers to a free-for-all fist fight? It might be better if Usara kept his name out of things when he reported this disgraceful business to Planir. But then, how else could Casuel come to the attention of the

  Archmage? He would have to give the matter some careful thought.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Taken from:

  The Geography of the East

  being a description of lands formerly provinces of the Tormalin Empire,

  compiled by Marol Afmoor,

  Mentor and Scholar of the University of Vanam,

  including comprehensive recital of the principal towns,

  industries and wares of each.

  ENSAIMIN

  The name Ensaimin is a corruption of Einar sai Emmin,'the land of many races' in the tongue of Tormalin antiquity. The plural Einarinn is of course more familiar, being the ancient word for 'world'. Historians concerned with enlarging the reputation of that lost Empire represent it as a province held with the sure grip that characterised Tormalin rule of Dalasor, Lescar and Caladhria, but this is not the case.

  In the subjugation of Caladhria, Tormalin power pushed as far as the White River, the natural boundary between the upper reaches of the Gulf of Peorle and the mountains of the Southern Spurs, the narrowest stretch of defensible terrain in that region. At this juncture, formal contact was first made between the Tormalin Empire and the Kingdom of Solura. King Soltriss, having laid claim to all lands west of the Great Forest, sent emissaries into that as yet unclaimed territory beyond. In their travels among the indigenous inhabitants, these delegates encountered diplomats from the Emperor Correl the Stalwart, who at that time was considering the annexation of lands beyond his existing boundaries.

  It is indeed fortunate for those innocently dwelling on the broad plains of this fertile region that these mighty rulers each recognised the perils of attempting to expand their domains. Correl was already pushing his Cohorts north across the Dalas to possess himself of the mineral wealth of the Gidestan mountains and for his pan, Soltriss was rightly doubtful about the viability of a province that would be separated from his other domains by the impenetrable mysteries of the Great Forest. It is undeniable that the Forest Folk would have seen such encirclement as a threat and resisted with all the arcane means at their disposal.

  Thus the happy land of Einar Sai Emmin accrued much benefit as trade between the Tormalin Empire and the Kingdom of Solura developed in stead of conflict. Pack-horse routes became major highways east to west, Forest Folk began to travel and trade on their own account, and both Gidestan and Soluran exploration into the Dragon's Spines brought metals and gems from the north to the sea. Even traders from the wastes of Mandarkin beyond those forbidding mountains risked the dread passes to bring furs and amber to the markets of the south.

  Fiefdoms ruled by lordlings with self-bestowed titles rose, interspersed with the self-governing cities grown up around the unions of road and river and the few safe anchorages along the coast, to produce the patchwork character of modern Ensaimin. Rivalry in a land dependent on trade discouraged unification, and many scholars make a convincing case for seeing the subtle hands of both Tormalin and Soluran nobilities in this, alert to the benefits of maintaining a buffer between such mighty powers.

  The Running Hound Inn

  Ambafost,

  14th of For-Autumn

  I had some vague idea of rising at dawn and heading off at the gallop; that's what people do on quests, isn't it? Not these three. When Shiv knocked on my door, it was well past sunrise and for a good long while I had been fully dressed and half-wondering if I should make a run for it. My promise not to make a run for it only applied to the day before, as far as I was concerned. We ate a leisurely breakfast in the private parlour, Darni wading through beef and onions, beer, bread, honey, more bread and sweetcakes. I asked for porridge and ignored Darni's amusement. I like porridge, and I also like to be able to walk after a meal rather than waddle. Still, it started me thinking; these three weren't scraping by and I wondered what an Archmage's agent earned in pay and expenses.

  When we finally set off, Shiv and Darni rode while I joined Geris in a neat two-horse carriage. I sat up front with him as the back was loaded with a couple of iron-banded coffers and everyone's baggage. The coffers looked interesting, and I wondered if Shiv
had taken any precautions or whether a quiet session with my lockpicks might prove fruitful. I can get very curious about locked boxes. I concentrated on the road ahead; the last thing I wanted was for Darni or Shiv to notice my interest.

  Geris drove well; his hands on the reins were relaxed and he spoke to his bay horses with ease. Evidently he'd been driving for years, probably since childhood, which almost certainly meant noble blood; commoners like me are lucky to get the use of a mule. I'd been on the road for a couple of years before it was worth my while even learning to ride, and I don't suppose I'd ever have learned to drive if it hadn't been essential for a swindle Halice and I had worked in Caladhria.

  'They're a nicely matched pair,' I commented after a few miles of companionable silence.

  'I picked them up last spring,' Geris smiled. 'They are pretty, aren't they? Still, their paces are so good I'd have bought them if one was black and the other white. I'm not bothered about a stylish shade of coat.'

  I like friendly, open people like Geris; they tell you so much more than they realise. In Vanam, it's only the wealthy who can afford to be so choosy about the colour of their horses, or who have the confidence to ignore fashion for that matter. So, wealthy as well as noble, two conditions not always related. Wealthy, noble, trusting and naive; why could I not have met him on his own? A less happy thought occurred to me; perhaps he was financing this gentlefolks' tour, not the Archmage. Still, I could be less careful not to win too much off him next time we played the runes.

  'Shiv tells me you're from Vanam?' I commented idly.

  'Yes, that's right.'

  'That's quite a coincidence. That's where I come from originally.' I gave him my warm, sisterly smile. Geris smiled back, reminding me of one of those eager Aldabreshi lapdogs.

  'Whereabouts do you live? Perhaps we have acquaintance in common?'

  It was quite funny to watch his brain catch up with his mouth. As a gambit for polite chit-chat, that was a fine question, but was it really what he wanted to ask a woman from whom he had bought stolen property? His face reflected his dismay as he saw the conversational pit he had just dug ahead. I was tempted to claim a handful of city notables as people I had robbed. Would that count as acquaintance?

  'I doubt it.' I took pity on him. 'My mother is a housekeeper.'

  'Oh, for whom?' Still not the most tactful question but this time he didn't seem to notice.

  'Emys Glashale. He lives east of the river, off the Rivenroad.'

  Geris shook his head. 'I don't really know that part of the city. My family live on the Ariborne.'

  'Oh?' I didn't have to fake a tone of interest. The Ariborne means money, but not necessarily old money. Some very shady characters try to purchase respectability with that address.

  Geris glanced at me and then concentrated on a bend in the road which was badly rutted and boggy with the recent rain. His face showed eagerness to chat was warring with instructions to be discreet, doubtless from Darni. I sat patiently and we negotiated the curve without accident. Geris looked sideways at me again, and I saw his eyes brighten as they lingered on my breeched legs. I stretched them out and leaned back in the seat, which also helped to pull my jerkin tighter over my breasts.

  'There are some beautiful houses on the Ariborne,' I said wistfully. 'Have you lived there long?'

  As I hoped, the social code could not let Geris ignore a lady's conversation, even one as dubiously qualified as me.

  'My father built the house about ten years ago, when he—' Geris broke off and hesitated. He laughed. 'Oh well, you might as well know. My father's Judal Armiger.'

  'Never!' I gaped at him. 'The Looking Glass man? That Judal?'

  Geris blushed but I could see he was proud of his parentage and no wonder.

  'Why are you so shy about it? Judal's the greatest actor Vanam has known in three generations!' I let my enthusiasm have full rein. 'My mother told me how he formed his own company rather than seek a wealthy patron. She says everyone was astounded. And then, to build his own playhouse rather than use the temples like everyone else, well, that was a stroke of genius.'

  'He's a clever man.' Geris sat straighter on his seat as pride filled him.

  'Clever hardly fits it! People are still talking about the first time he staged a Lescari romance. It made the priests livid. How did he find the nerve to go and buy in a Soluran masquerade after that, just to show them what he thought?'

  I laughed; I'd seen the masqueraders as a child on a rare day out with my father and I could still picture them vividly.

  'He writes his own material too,' Geris boasted. 'He's survived mockery, sabotage and imitation to set the standard by which any troupe is judged.'

  That had the sound of one of Judal's own lines to me but I wasn't going to quibble. He is certainly a remarkable man. Incidentally, he has made a great deal of money.

  'My mother and I queued all afternoon to see The Duke of Marker's Daughter, you know.'

  Geris turned eagerly. 'Did you enjoy it? What did you think of it?'

  'My mother said she'd never realised one mother putting a switch across her daughter's backside could have stopped the Lescari wars before they'd got started.' I laughed in sudden remembrance of her dry tone.

  'I don't think that's entirely fair.' Geris looked more than a little put out.

  'I thought the play was very fine,' I assured him. 'I really admired the way the princess stood up to them all and refused to let them rule her life, no matter what.'

  Geris looked mollified so I didn't elaborate; I may have admired the stubborn Suleta as a bloody-minded girl myself, but nowadays I'd be more of my mother's opinion, unlikely though that sounds.

  'Well!' I shook my head in wonder. 'So how do you come to be jaunting round with that peculiar pair?' I waved a hand at the backs of Darni and Shiv.

  Geris relaxed a little. 'My mentor at the University is an expert on Tormalin Empire history, especially Nemith the Seafarer and Nemith the Reckless. Something - that is, when Planir needed someone to help with some - when he wanted to know more about that period, he contacted my master. He recommended me to Darni and Shiv.'

  I hoped no one was trusting Geris with anything vital. With all his hesitations, he couldn't have been more obvious with 'I've got a secret' chalked on his back.

  'Didn't you want to go into the Looking Glass?' I would have sold all my aunts and cousins for a chance like that. Well, to be honest, I would have sold my aunts and cousins for a lot less, but I still could not understand how Geris could have walked away from something so exciting.

  'Not really. I could never be a player.'

  Well, that was true enough.

  'I got interested in history when Father was writing Vamyre the Bold. I did some writing for the stage but it wasn't very good. I liked the studying best, trying to make sense of the old sages, shrine records, chronicles from the Empire, that kind of thing. Did you know the Tormalins reckoned a generation was twenty-five years, but the Solurans say it's thirty-three; that's why tying up their histories is so difficult.'

  'And your father doesn't mind?'

  'Father always said that we could choose our own path; he'd had to run away from home to be able to do what he wanted and he says he vowed not to be so hard on his own children. Most of the time he manages. Anyway, I've two brothers and a sister who act, a brother who writes really well and a sister who keeps things organised, so I don't think they miss me.'

  He smiled, serene, content with his lot. I wondered what a strife-free family was like.

  'This must sound stupid but I never knew Judal had a family; I don't think anyone ever thinks about Judal's life off-stage.'

  'He'd be delighted to hear that.' Geris urged the horses to a trot as Shiv and Darni vanished into a wooded stretch of road. 'He never wants his own repute to interfere with our lives. My mother and my younger brother and sisters can walk around town without being- recognised, and that suits her just fine.'

  How many children did that make? 'She must be
quite a woman.'

  'She is,' Geris said proudly.

  I smiled; I doubted he meant it in the way I did.

  We passed a waystone and I frowned as I realised we were on the Eyhorne road.

  'Where are we headed? I'd have thought you'd have been heading for Col, if you're dealing in antiquities.'

  Geris' smile faded and he looked at Darni's stiff back uncertainly. I persisted.

  'You must have seen an Almanac, surely? They're putting an extra day into the Equinox, you know, to keep the Calendar right. It's going to be the biggest fair in years. You could find all sorts of dealers there.'

  'Of course, they use the Tormalin Calendar there, don't they?' Geris frowned. 'Didn't they add a day at the same time as the Solurans, three years ago?'

  I shrugged; I did not want Geris distracted by errors in the various methods of measuring a year; keeping track of who uses which system and making sure you're working from the right Almanac is enough of a pain as it is.

  'So where are we headed?'

  'Oh, Drede,' Geris said absently. 'Are the Tormalins adding any days at Solstice, do you know?'

  'What's in Drede?' This made no sense. Drede is the sort of place that only exists because there's only so much countryside people can take before they get an overwhelming need to build a tavern.

  Geris shook himself and abandoned calendar calculations for the present. 'I'm not sure I should be talking to you about it,' he admitted.

  'If I'm going to be doing a job for you there, I need as much time as possible to plan it.'

  'I don't see how I can help.'

  'Well, what am I supposed to be lifting? Who from? Why are these things so important?'

  Geris shifted on the seat. 'It's an ink-horn,' he said finally.

  'A what?'

  'An ink-horn. You keep ink in it, it's made from horn.'

  'Yes, I know what one is. What's so special about this one? Darni could buy a handful in Col.'

  'We need this particular one. The owner won't sell so we've been wondering how to get hold of it. You came along at just the right time.' He gave me a wide-eyed smile.