The Mages of Bennamore

by Pauline M. Ross

  “I have something else for you to wear tonight.”

  He reached into one pocket and pulled out a silver chain with a jade pendant. When he fastened it around my neck, the stone fell just between my breasts, tingling and warm as it settled.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, puzzled, “but the colour isn’t such a good match.”

  “The colour is unimportant. Fen—” He chewed his lip, hesitant suddenly. “Look, I’m trusting you with my secret, so you must be very careful not to betray me. You could get me into terrible trouble. Understand?”

  It was unlike him to be so serious, so I nodded.

  “This stone is magic. It’s a kind of vessel, like Losh’s staff and Kael’s stone ball, although there’s less magic in it than theirs. It will protect you against anyone trying to use magic on you.”

  “Like the Holder, you mean?”

  “Him, or anyone else. But I’m not supposed to have this. At least, I’m not supposed to use it, so you mustn’t mention it to anyone.”

  “I understand.” I lowered my voice conspiratorially. “I’ll keep your little secret, I promise.”

  “It’s not a joke, Fen! I’m only doing this because I don’t like whatever game that Holder of yours is playing. You were in such a state last time. If this doesn’t work, if you feel anything, anything at all… unusual, let me know at once, and I’ll get you out of there, no matter who it offends. Understand?”

  “You really think that what happened to me was caused by magic?”

  I’d been with the mages long enough to have some appreciation of the power they wielded. I had no idea how it worked – maybe it was just their absolute belief in it – but I was less confident now that it was all a trick. I wasn’t so glib about it any more.

  “I can’t think of any other explanation. You’re the most tightly closed up woman I’ve ever met, Fen, and the way you behaved… that was not you, not at all. You felt a warmth in your head, and that’s a strong symptom of magic at work.”

  Whether the jade stone protected me or not, the moon feast passed without incident. I tried to focus my mind on learning the names of some of Ish’s kin and advisors, a different set this time.

  The plain man with the Bennamorian clothes was there again, and once more Ish didn’t introduce me, so I asked who he was.

  “Who? Oh, him. That is Nord, one of my less important advisors. I acquired him in Bennamore. He is not much of a conversationalist.”

  “Why does he stare at me?”

  “I have no idea. Perhaps he admires you. Come and meet my cousin…” And he steered me firmly away from the interesting Nord, whose eyes followed me around the room. He might be one of Ish’s less important advisors, but he was invited to every moon feast, it seemed.

  I was too tense to enjoy the evening much, but at least I didn’t disgrace myself with any wanton displays. I was so relieved, I babbled inanely all the way home in the carriage, much to Mal’s amusement.

  In my bedroom, he unravelled all the flowers from my hair again, and then removed the pendant, slipping it back into his pocket. I was sorry to see it go. All my cheerfulness evaporated without it, as if the sun had gone behind a cloud.

  “Will you manage the fastenings on your gown?” he asked. I looked at his face reflected in the mirror, serious for once, yet with something more in his dark eyes. He made no move to touch me, but I knew what was in his mind.

  Dragon’s teeth, it was tempting. He was an expert lover, without question, and I enjoyed his touch, even without magically-enhanced desire pounding through me. Part of me wanted to acquiesce, wanted it very much.

  But I’d spent twenty years building walls around me, building them high enough and strong enough that no man would ever reach my heart again. I craved seclusion more than anything else in the world.

  “I don’t need you to undress me. I’m quite capable, you know.”

  “I know, but…” He took a step towards me, and I backed away. “It’s more fun if I help, isn’t it, my love?”

  He grinned at me, and stretched out a hand. I stepped smartly out of reach, but he kept coming. “Don’t be so unfriendly, Fen. It’s not as if we’ve never—”

  “No! We agreed.” I bumped into the side of the bed. Dragon’s balls. Nowhere else to retreat to.

  “That was before…” He grabbed me, wrapping both arms around my waist, and bent to kiss me. I leaned back away from him, and the movement toppled us both over onto the bed. He let go to avoid squashing me, and I scrambled across the bed, trying to reach the other side and freedom.

  He was bigger than me, and stronger, and caught me without effort, rolling me over onto my back and pinning my arms above my head. Then he laughed in my face.

  “See? This is fun, isn’t it?”

  “No! It’s not fun at all. Let me go, Mal.” I wriggled, but he had me held fast.

  “Come on, relax, angel. I’ll make it memorable for you.”

  It was already far too memorable. He lay, half on top of me, pinning me to the bed, nuzzling my neck.

  “Stop it, will you! Get off me.” I tried to get my knee up to somewhere vulnerable, but the skirt of my gown was held fast by his weight, and I couldn’t move.

  “Ssh, it’s all right, my sweet.” He released one arm and started scrabbling at my gown, heaving it up. I heard a ripping noise.

  “Oh, so you’re going to rape me, then?”

  His face froze, eyes narrowing, staring at me as if struggling to comprehend my attitude. Abruptly, he rolled off me. “Ah, fuck it, Fen, I thought you liked it.”

  He sounded so disgusted that I almost laughed. He stomped across to his own room and slammed the door.

  The worst of it was, I had the Demon’s own job getting all the stupid buttons unfastened on the gown afterwards. Why by the Goddess would anyone use such ridiculously tiny things? There were scores of them. I told myself that next time I’d let him get me out of the gown first, before I threw him out.

  I was a little annoyed with him, I’ll admit, because my lovely new gown was torn. At least I wouldn’t have to pay a tailor to mend it, since we had two needle-women in the house with very little to do. Other than that, I wasn’t too upset. Mal was human, after all, just an uncouth man of little education and a thin veneer of manners. After I’d fallen into his arms three times, I could hardly expect him not to try his luck. Apart from the gown, there was no harm done. At least now he knew that I meant what I said.

  ~~~~~

  Mal was subdued the next morning, but within a day or so he’d bounced back to his usual irritatingly cheery self. He’d become quite protective of me, since what he called my ‘incident’ with Ish. When I went to the library next, he came with me.

  “The gate guards won’t let you in,” I protested. “You don’t have a pass.”

  He just smirked at me. When we got to the gate, the guards all greeted him by name and clapped him on the back and reminded him that he owed them money or ale, and when was he coming by for another ‘session’, whatever masculine pastime that was. I sighed in resignation, but said nothing. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of expressing surprise, or even interest.

  But he explained it himself. “I’ve spent a lot of time here getting to know the guards so that I could perhaps find out about Hesta,” he murmured as we crossed the bailey to the library entrance. “Waste of time. I just come for training now.”

  Inside, I settled in my usual alcove with my books spread out on the table.

  “I’ll just wander around here and there,” Mal said vaguely.

  I looked up at him in surprise. “Aren’t you going to keep me company?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I don’t want to crimp your bonnet if your Holder turns up.”

  “Crimp my…? You have some strange expressions. But there’s no need to hide yourself away. We don’t talk about anything private.”

  “I know, but…” He shuffled his feet, head down. “You have to consider your future, Fen. You and him – you go to
gether. Both of you nobles and all that. If he’s what you want, I’ll not get in the way.”

  I’d barely had time to register the meaning of that when he rushed off, tossing out, “Scream if you need me,” over his shoulder. In next to no time I heard girlish giggles mingling with his deep rumble in the distance. All that false consideration for my future, when what he really wanted was the excuse to flirt with some chit of a girl.

  Fortunately, Ish arrived soon afterwards to distract me. I was jumpy with him, but I had the jade pendant on. It was hidden beneath my clothes but the stone hung warm and tingling between my breasts. Mal was reassuringly close, too.

  Ish was perfectly normal and easy. You would never guess from his manner that only a quarter moon earlier I’d pounced on him in a fever of desire, before his daughter burst in to rescue him. Still, I couldn’t help wondering whether what happened was because of magic, and if so how? Ish had never shown the slightest sign of arcane powers. I knew it was possible to keep such things hidden, though, and the thought made me uneasy.

  He seemed to have magic on his mind too. In the middle of a long discussion of a trading contract he’d just renegotiated with Greet Bay, on very advantageous terms, he said, “Fen, do you have any influence with these mages of yours? I have some difficult talks with Dellonar coming up, and it would be most helpful to have their input.”

  “How can they help you? They know nothing of trade or shipping or treaties. Not here, anyway.”

  “It is the viewpoint of an outsider that is so useful. And their powers, of course. Hestaria was a terrific asset to us, and these new ones would be the same, I am sure. Well, the older one, at least. Will you ask them? Tell them how grateful I should be, and it might not hurt to remind them of all the little ways I have smoothed the path for them here. You can persuade them, I know it. If you could ask them to come a quarter moon from tomorrow—”

  “Wait a moment,” I said. “I am employed for very specific duties. It is not my role to persuade the mages of anything. If you write to them with your proposal, I promise to explain it to them in a favourable light, but I will not be your advocate.”

  His brows snapped together. “That is not very helpful, Fen.” His voice was clipped, cold. Then, while I watched, the annoyance on his face softened into something closer to his normal affectionate expression. “Ah well, I can talk to them at the next moon feast.”

  I was left wondering why he was so reluctant to put the suggestion in writing. He’d always been a complicated man, but sometimes I felt like I hardly knew him at all. He seemed genuinely pleased to see me, so relaxed in my company, so encouraging, it had to be said, yet he backed away when I responded. When I’d pounced on him, I’m quite certain he was relieved that his daughter interrupted us. Very odd.

  Mal materialised with the first bell of the noon chimes, looming up beside me like a black cloud. The intimate atmosphere cracked like ice. Ish’s face set into a mask of forced politeness.

  My husband was oblivious, of course.

  “What are you so absorbed in, wife?” he boomed, swivelling my disregarded book around. “ ‘The revised whale oil law of one hundred and fifty seven: an analysis.’ Gods, how can you read this dull stuff?”

  I snapped the book shut. “The sub-clauses are fascinating. Most unusual.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Beside Ish’s neat elegance, he looked more dishevelled than ever, having seemingly thrown on yesterday’s crumpled clothes and neglected to comb his hair. I wondered whether he’d bothered to wash.

  He whisked me away as fast as was decent, carefully precluding any invitation from Ish to the noon table which I might find too tempting to refuse.

  As we walked home, he grinned at me. “Did you enjoy your morning?”

  I sighed with pleasure. “Very much.” How could I not enjoy it? My head was full of Ish’s melodic voice, his sweet smile, his slender hands. I never tired of watching his hands. I tore myself out of my reverie to remember my manners. “And you?”

  “It was very productive.”

  I snorted with laughter. “It didn’t sound productive. It sounded to me as if you whiled away the hours entertaining every female in the library.”

  He grunted, and replied unsmilingly. “I’ve made a friend or two, that’s all. You’re not the only one who has to think about the future. In a few moons’ time, I shall find myself wifeless, so I’m looking around for likely prospects.”

  There wasn’t a hint of jokiness in his tone. I didn’t much like the idea of him openly trawling for my replacement, so we walked the rest of the way in silence.

  ~~~

  These quarter moons while we waited for Gret to return were a welcome respite from drama. The mages’ business was thriving, Mal kept himself away from me and I had another huge missive from Tylk keeping me up to date on Carrinshar news. This one was more distressing, for Mistress Jast, my refuge between jobs, was dead. It seemed that a bucket had been left near the cellar stairs, and she had tripped, fallen and broken her neck.

  I grieved for her, of course, but Carrinshar felt oddly distant to me now. I had known Jast well, but I would never have accounted her a friend, exactly, more of an acquaintance. Now even that tenuous connection was snuffed out like a candle. So after a subdued day or two I perked up again, and life went on as placidly as before.

  Only one trouble marred this time, and that was when Kael noticed some coins missing.

  With histrionics worthy of a murder, at least, he summoned the entire household to the entrance hall. There we listened to a great diatribe, his arms waving furiously and face mottled with rage. We were all lying, thieving scumbags, apparently, and he would see us all in the Eternal Fires, and so on and so forth. And all for two bits and a round.

  I would never have thought he would have noticed such a trivial amount missing from the vast piles of wealth the mages kept locked away in Losh’s study. But there, Kael could surprise even me. He was a counter of coins, it seemed, and knew to a nicety what should be in the lock-box.

  The guards began systematically interviewing all the servants, beginning with the most junior. Several of them were on the take in one way or another already, so I expected the matter to be speedily resolved, but no. Even when the missing coins reappeared two days later, hidden behind some curtains in the table room, that was not the end of the affair. Kael insisted the coins had been stolen and the thief had simply replaced them when the alarm was raised. So the process continued, right up to the house controller herself.

  “You’re running out of suspects and you’ve got the money back,” I said to Mal one day as he sat despondent at his failure to find the culprit. “Aren’t you ready to give up yet?”

  “Can’t,” he said gloomily. We were at evening table, nibbling at a last slice of cheese each. “Kael’s as mad as fire about this. We have to interview everyone in the house, and if that doesn’t work I daresay we’ll have to work our way through the whole blasted population of Dristomar.”

  “You don’t suspect me, I trust.” I held my breath.

  He turned weary eyes on me. “I suspect everyone, Fen. That’s my job.”

  Not the right answer, Mal. How to respond – hurt surprise? Or anger, perhaps. Yes, anger.

  “By the Goddess, that’s insulting! Do you really think I took those coins? Two stupid bits and a silver?”

  He heaved a sigh. “I don’t know – did you?”

  I was prepared for that question, adopting a melodramatic pose, hand to forehead. “Ah, so you’ve found me out! Yes, it was me, I confess all. Such a desperate character as I am, and so poor I have to steal a couple of bits to fend off starvation. Dragon’s teeth, Mal, what sort of question is that?”

  His eyes narrowed, and he stared at me with a puzzled face. “A simple one,” he said at length. “It deserves a simple answer.” That was definitely not the response I was looking for.

  “Goddess!” But there was no way of avoiding it. “No, I did not steal those
coins. Satisfied?”

  His eyes widened, frozen. For an instant my heart stopped. Surely he couldn’t really think I would do such a thing? Then he got up and stomped out, and I didn’t see him again that day.

  The following day, the last of the servants was interviewed and, despite Kael’s protestations, the hunt was called off. It was a waste of time, Losh said, a distraction from their work. Mal said nothing, but he glowered and snarled at everyone, all the cheerfulness squeezed out of him, like the juice from a berry, leaving him a dried up husk. I’d never realised before just how seriously he took his work until I saw his reaction to a failure.

  I didn’t much mind his grumpiness. I’d never liked the relentlessly joky Mal anyway. When we met at table he was frigidly polite, speaking to me only when it was unavoidable, but then he was much the same with everyone else. The other guards joked about the bruises he inflicted on them at training. At night he either went straight through to his room without a word, or else he stayed out, Goddess knows where, until dawn.

  At first I let him be, assuming he’d work through his misery by himself if I left him alone. It was annoying but I had another man to fill my thoughts. I had Ish. I counted the hours until I could see him, and sink once more into that blissful state where the world shrank to just the two of us and nothing else existed. I even began to dream of him again, the good dreams this time, riding our light-footed horses over the sunny grasslands, his blond hair flying, or walking in the perfumed gardens at dusk, arms entwined. Although oddly Mal was often in these dreams, too, standing glowering in corners or amongst the trees, like the grumpy giant in the tales my nurse told me.

  After a while, though, Mal’s distance began to bother me, gnawing away like a sore tooth, giving me no peace. Irritating as he often was, he’d taken good care of me and I’d come to think of him as a friend. I couldn’t understand why he was so bothered by his failure to track down the thief. I began to feel uneasily that there was more to it, and perhaps it was my fault. Mal’s anger had started when he’d forced me to deny knowing anything about the theft, so perhaps he was upset with me for some unfathomable reason of his own.