The Mages of Bennamore

by Pauline M. Ross

A knock on the door made us all jump. The house controller came in, bearing platters of cakes. With practised efficiency she refilled wine glasses, replenished decanters, laid out food and withdrew.

  After the door had closed, we all fell on the cakes, glad to break the tension with mundane activity. I don’t think any of us ate much, but it helped to have something to do, something to crumble on the plate and fiddle with. Nobody said much, beyond practicalities.

  A thought flew into my head, and buzzed around there. “But you have a mage.”

  “What?” Ish said. “What do you mean?”

  “You must have a mage already. You used magic against me.”

  “No, you are mistaken.”

  “She is not mistaken.” That was Mal, his first words for some time. “Something was done to Fen, some form of magic that made her…” A long pause. “Behave out of character.” It was an understated description of the effect it had had on me, but I wasn’t going to correct him.

  A glimmer of understanding. “Ah. That would be Nord.”

  I dredged around in my mind. The bland-faced fellow who looked like a coastal man, but dressed like a Bennamorian. The unimportant adviser who nevertheless was invited to every moon feast.

  “Who is he?” I asked. “He has no mage mark on his forehead.”

  “Oh, he is no mage, I assure you, but he has… a certain skill, shall we say. He originates from Dellonar, I believe, but he lived in Bennamore for a great many years, working as a scribe. We became friends there, and when my wife and I moved back here, Nord came with us as an advisor to my wife, to help in her adaptation to Holding ways, to smooth the way for her. He has an unusual connection with minds – feelings. He can enhance them, or reduce them. It has been most helpful to us, in a thousand small ways. If only he could have applied his skill to larger groups – we would have had no need to look further.”

  He turned to face me fully, his eyes seeking mine for the first time, hands spread wide. “I am so sorry, Fen, for what happened to you. It was my wife’s idea. Nord sensed some hostility in you towards me, so Tella felt it would be beneficial to everyone if you were more amenable. We meant no harm by it, we believed it would make our interactions more pleasant. We stopped after that second time, when it was obvious that it affected you too greatly. I have never wished you any harm, you know that.”

  “Do I? Then why did you let your wife hit me over the head, and her tame commander throw me in your dungeon?”

  He reached for my hand, and I was caught. “I never wanted that! My wife – she has always been tempestuous, and she does not always understand the nuances of coastal life. As for the dungeon – I had no idea such a place existed, you must believe me! Kestimar told me he would take you straight to the infirmary.”

  “And you never thought to go there yourself, to check?” Mal’s voice was dangerously low.

  There was that bewildered look on Ish’s face again. “I did… I am sure I asked, many times, I decided I would go, but…” He shook his head, like a dog ridding itself of water. “I am not sure why I never went, but I wanted to… I swear it, Fen.”

  He looked so distraught that I believed him. Besides, he had hold of my hands, he was gazing deep into my eyes, and I melted under his intense scrutiny. There were eleven of us in the room, but I saw only him.

  “You could have gone to the infirmary any time you wanted,” Mal said, his voice harsh as a carrion crow. “Yet you chose not to.”

  Losh’s soft voice cut in. “Oh, I do not think he had any choice in the matter. I suspect this Nord person may have had a hand in it. If he has the power you say, he could have manipulated the Lord Holder’s feelings, just as he did with Fen.”

  Ish stared at him in horror. “No…”

  I should have been shocked, I suppose, but all I felt was relief. Ish hadn’t callously ignored my plight, after all! He had wanted to find me, to help me, but his mind had been manipulated just as mine had been. I knew how powerful an effect that was, so I understood completely.

  He looked so bewildered and upset, my heart ached for him. All I wanted to do was take him in my arms and soothe away his distress. How many times had we lain in the darkness on our big bed, his head on my shoulder, his arm around my waist, while he told me all his troubles and—

  “How would we know?” Tarn’s voice cut across my reverie like a knife. “Is there any way to tell if he had been… interfered with in that way?”

  Losh lifted one shoulder. “I cannot help you, Lady. This is no form of magic known to us.”

  “It sounds very subtle,” the older mage, Temerren, added, tugging worriedly at a lock of grey hair. “Perhaps there are no outward symptoms.”

  “When it happened to Fen, she felt a warmth in her head,” Mal said, and Losh and Temerren said, “Ah!” in unison.

  “That would be a clear indication of magic,” Losh said. “Some kind of magic, at least. Is it so, Fen?”

  I nodded, not sure I could command my voice. Part of me was still in my dream with Ish. Shaky and weak, I was glad I was sitting down.

  “Did you notice anything of the sort, dear?” Tarn turned to Ish, who just looked confused.

  “Possibly. I cannot be sure…”

  “Well, someone has done something to you.” Tarn threw him a look of annoyance, but that was unfair. It wasn’t Ish’s fault if this Nord had made him this way.

  I remembered, too, that Tarn’s connection was probably having an effect on Ish, and the two conflicting pressures were bound to be confusing. It was a wonder he could function at all, between the pair of them. Any form of magic, however subtle, was a mysterious and unpredictable affair, but combining two at once was like throwing oil on the fire.

  “You know whose fault this is, I suppose,” Tarn said crossly to Ish.

  He sat up straighter, and his face darkened. “You have never liked her, I know that.”

  Tarn chewed her lip. “There is something about her, something that makes me uncomfortable. She uses her charm to get her own way.”

  “She cannot help being friendly. That is just her nature.”

  “Oh, certainly, dear. But she does have all the men dancing at the end of her strings. She is very… seductive.”

  She threw a glance at Mal as she said the word, and he flushed bright red, avoiding her gaze.

  I knew who they meant – Ish’s wife. Yes, she was certainly seductive. She had seduced Mal, too, another man dancing at the end of her strings.

  The meeting dragged on a little while longer, but I barely heard a word. My mind was away in the deeps, conscious with every breath of Ish’s nearness. His hands, that had so recently held mine, rested on the polished table, the jewels on his slender fingers glinting. I could smell his perfume, and if I just reached out my hand I could stroke his face, and his eyes would close, a little smile on his lips. I wanted so badly to feel the softness of his beard, to run my hands through his pale hair. It took all my control to sit motionless while the discussion lapped around me.

  At last the Holders rose to leave. In the milling about as everyone drifted into the entrance hall and the servants sprang to action, I found myself next to Tarn.

  “Well,” she said, glaring at me in a distinctly unfriendly way. “So your word is not to be relied upon, it seems.”

  “My… word?”

  “In regard to the matter we discussed.” She glanced across at Mal, then back to me.

  Oh, that. Although I didn’t recall making any promises. Besides, since I’d talked to Tarn about him, he’d told me he loved me. “I’m not sure that would have worked out anyway.”

  “We shall never know now, shall we, dear?” She swept out without a backwards glance.

  Mal sidled across to me. “What was all that about?”

  “She fancied you for some late-night guard duties.”

  His eyebrows shot upwards. “Really?”

  “You were very agreeable to her when you walked her home that night.”

  “Oh. I was just being
friendly. You know me.”

  I sighed. Indeed I did.

  28: The Glass Ball

  I had been away for so long that the mages had been forced to employ another recorder to allow them to carry on their business. “We cannot disappoint our clients,” Losh said firmly when I expressed surprise. The recorder was none other than the skinny twenty year old who had been in residence when we arrived. The mages had never bothered to rescind his contract formally and he was still available, so there was no difficulty.

  It suited everyone to keep him on. Losh was able to go about the town to visit clients in their homes, accompanied by the new recorder and a couple of guards. Kael undertook simple spellpage work at the house, with me to record the transactions. Hestaria’s vessel had disappeared at the Hold and she had no wish to return to Bennamore without it. She stayed on, supervising Kael and, I suspect, experimenting with the jade belts.

  I discovered that the investigation into Gret’s death had been and gone while Mal and I were underground. The mages had all attended, and the lawyer had given her version of events, but nothing unexpected had come to light.

  “Are you satisfied now?” I asked Losh. “You won’t be sending for the army?”

  “For myself, I am satisfied,” he said in his placid way. “Gret’s death was an accident, no more than that. As for you and Hestaria, your captivity arose through misunderstandings. Now that the Holder is aware that we cannot help him, and clearly regrets the incidents, I do not believe you are in any danger. I have said all this in my report to the Drashon. The matter of the army is not for me to decide, however. It is for the Drashon and the Council of Nobles to determine whether the honour of Bennamore has been impugned.”

  That wasn’t particularly reassuring. However, Ish had done all he could to pacify the Bennamorians, so we just had to hope for the best.

  Mal was unusually subdued. At first I thought it was just the after effects of the long trek through the tunnel and the weirdness of the tower, that he would bounce back to his usual ebullient self, but he didn’t. Each night he came to my bed, but he made no attempt to paw me. Instead he would simply curl up with his back to me and go to sleep.

  I must be very contrary. Part of me was glad, because it left me free to dream of Ish unimpeded, and already I regretted my haste to invite Mal to my bed. But partly I was offended that he no longer found me desirable. After professing his love for me, and making me feel so guilty that I’d thrown myself at him, now he didn’t want me, it seemed. Irritating man. I didn’t understand him at all.

  ~~~~~

  The mages were fascinated by the glass balls Hestaria and I had brought back from the tower, and even more intrigued to hear that Ish had one too.

  “Where did it come from?” Losh mused. “No one could have got into that tower before, not with the tunnel collapsing that way.”

  “He said his wife gave it to him, so perhaps they are commonplace on the plains. We know there are other towers elsewhere.”

  We were sitting in the table room one evening after the meal had been cleared away, all the mages, Corsell, who was never far from Losh’s side, and me. The guards were taking advantage of the long hours of daylight to run about with swords in the yard outside.

  “But they are only toys, you know,” Hestaria said, rolling hers across the table to Losh who caught it deftly. It immediately changed colour, cycling through various colours before turning back to a creamy blue. “Prettily coloured toys, it is true, but still only toys.”

  “It is certainly pretty,” Losh said, holding it up and gazing thoughtfully into its depths. “I am not convinced it has no purpose, though, Hesta. We may not understand its powers, but it is not just glowing glass. There is something magical about it. Here, what do you think, Temerren?”

  He rolled it along to the elderly mage, who stopped its movement with one finger, setting off its colour changes once more. When it settled back to pale blue, he picked up his vessel, a short piece of wood carved like a plains kishorn, and muttered a few incantations over the ball. The colour remained stubbornly unchanging.

  With a shake of the head, he passed it to Kael. It lit up with colours again, before turning this time to a deep brown.

  “Ah!” Temerren said. “Interesting. Can you make it do anything else, Kael?”

  But none of them could. Each time it was passed on, it went through all the colours, but only the final colour was different – dark brown for Kael, a paler brown for me, creamy blue for everyone else. Apart from the colours, it was inert, although I knew that sometimes there was a flare of blue, for no obvious reason. I’d seen it in Ish’s ball, and mine had done the same.

  “Fascinating,” Losh said. “Can we see yours now, Fen?”

  “It’s just the same. You won’t learn anything new from it.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Losh said, with his benevolent smile.

  It was a strange thing, but I felt very protective of my glass sphere, toy or not. Some part of my mind was always aware of it, whether sitting in my bedroom atop a pewter jug, or resting in a velvet bag at my waist, as it was now. I was conscious of Hestaria’s ball, too, now that it was in the same room as I was, although only faintly.

  Almost it seemed to be calling to me, as if it had a consciousness of its own. I’d find myself wanting to touch it, to hold it, to have it close to me. The velvet bag allowed me to carry it around, always to hand, and I’d find myself reaching into the bag, just to feel its reassuring smoothness.

  Perhaps it was just an illusion, but I fancied my ability to detect metals sharpened a little when I held the ball, as if it amplified the effect. But I couldn’t be sure, so I decided not to mention it. Besides, I didn’t like reminding them of my power over locks. I’d had to confess it when we told our story of escaping from the dungeons, and Hestaria had gleefully described how I’d melted the metal door to the tower. No one had yet worked out that someone able to unlock a cell door might equally well unlock a coin box. Only Mal knew of that shameful little secret.

  “We will not harm it,” Temerren added, perhaps seeing my hesitation.

  Reluctantly I lifted the ball gently from its bag. Inside, the pale brown cloud swirled slowly. It felt warm to my touch, although Hestaria’s had felt cold, just like any other glass object.

  Losh took it from my hand. At once the colour cleared altogether, and all the mages said, “Ah!” in unison. Now it was just a plain glass sphere.

  “Well, how interesting!” Temerren said. “Perhaps this is because you walked through the cloud of spheres to choose it?”

  “It chose me, not the other way round. I waited and it drifted into my hands.”

  “So perhaps it is attuned to you alone, whereas the others work for anyone. Fascinating. Has it ever done anything else?”

  I told them about the blue flares, but although their eyes sparkled with interest, none of them could account for it.

  ~~~~~

  After a quarter moon, I reminded Mal that we’d never had the platter house meal he’d promised me the day I’d gone to the Hold.

  He sighed. “I’d love to, but those bastards at the Hold took my coin bag when I was unconscious, and I won’t get more until next quarter day.”

  We were sitting in my bedroom to escape the afternoon heat. He was tending his uniform, while I read a book, the two of us an amusing picture of placid domesticity.

  “I thought you could get hold of as much coin as you wanted?”

  “Used to.” His head was bent industriously over the boot he was polishing. “Losh was happy to toss it around like autumn leaves, as much as we asked for. But it’s Kael who created the surplus, and now he’s refusing to do it, since the – well, you know. The missing coins business. He’s very – hmm, odd about money. So now we have to live on what the mages can earn, and the house arrest means that coins are in short supply for all of us.”

  He must have caught my frown, for he added tartly, “Don’t worry, my love, you’ll still be paid.”
<
br />   “Oh, it’s not that. My salary is guaranteed.” But I was disappointed. No long, luxurious meals? No new gowns? I realised now that it was some time since Mal had brought me one of those exciting parcels from the tailor.

  Of course, I had plenty of money of my own, if I could bring myself to spend it. My kooria was full of small stones; there were more sewn into my waistcoat. By any measure, I was well off. Yet even the thought of spending some of my hoard turned my stomach into knots, and made me quake. I had come so close to destitution, and had only escaped by my fingertips. As a result, I was quite odd about money, too, in my own way.

  In my mind I knew it was irrational, I knew I had family I could turn to, I knew I would never be destitute. It was my stupid pride that got in the way, insisting on being independent, never asking for help, never spending a single bit unnecessarily. It was time I got over that.

  Besides, Mal had always been generous to me, had enjoyed spending money to please me – and some of it, at least, was his own money, too. I owed him something for that.

  Deep breath. “I can pay.”

  He looked up from the boot he was polishing with a grin. “I know, but are you willing to break into your stash?”

  I flushed. “I… of course.” The glass ball flared blue at me from its home on the pewter jug, as if in mockery of my insincerity. “I have plenty of money.”

  I eyed the ball suspiciously, but it made no comment this time.

  “I know but…” He watched me, head tipped to one side, hands stilled in mid-air, as if weighing up my motives. “The last place cost six, almost seven bars. Do you have that much? Or will you have to trade a stone? I wouldn’t be comfortable with this if you have to diminish your savings, and neither would you be, I’ll wager. But if you have some bars… Let me see your coin bag.”

  I handed it over with a laugh, knowing to the bit how much was in it. He emptied the coins onto a table, then his face fell in disappointment.

  “Only three bars! Oh, well. I suppose we’ll just have to wait until quarter day comes round.”

  I shook my head. “I have plenty more. Pass me that pewter jug. No, the end one. Now look in that dresser there, the third drawer down, behind the scarves. You’ll find a wooden measure.”