He needed reliable information so that he could make a decision, but it had to be done soon. His people were dying and they needed to see decisive action from their Regent or their faith in him would begin to waver.
“Find me someone with some answers.”
Bettina grimaced. He’d become adept at reading her moods and knew this one signified personal distaste. “I know of someone. A man recently came to the palace, asking for an audience. He has some ideas, although I’m sceptical.”
“Bring him to me,” said the Regent. It was better than nothing and so far his own network of contacts had not produced anything.
“Yes, my Regent.”
The following morning Regent Choilan sat in one of his private audience chambers, nibbling at some slices of apple and coconut cake. Two guards were stationed just outside the door as a precaution, but Bettina was confident the man, Habreel, posed no threat to him. When Habreel arrived, bowing low alongside his clerk, Choilan took a moment to study the man.
Descended from Yerskania, with their paler than pale skin and blue eyes, there seemed to be little of note about him. He stood of average height, his features were bland and he carried himself with neither arrogance nor the bold carriage of a man confident of a great destiny. Habreel resembled a shopkeeper or an accountant. It was only later, when the Regent thought back over their conversation, that he noted Habreel came alive when he mentioned his goal. In those moments a fire burned behind his eyes that spoke of passion and, perhaps, a hint of madness.
“Regent, thank you for agreeing to see me.”
Choilan gestured at the seat opposite, deciding to take a generous approach for the time being. Bettina remained standing, moving to the far corner where she scribbled notes in her journal while listening to their conversation.
“Bettina tells me you have some thoughts on the current situation with the Seekers.”
“Yes, Regent.”
“Tell me.”
“I believe it began during the war. Zecorria, as a nation was led astray. As you know the Warlock tricked the people here. He confused their minds with his magic and with it led this country into a dark time.”
Habreel paused, perhaps waiting to see what impact his words had and whether or not he would be hanged or cheered on for such a bold statement. The Regent remained impassive and gestured for him to continue.
“The war was ten years ago, but people in other countries still regard Zecorria with scorn. They blame Zecorrans for all that happened and ignore the facts. They ignore that many other nations in the west were also led astray by dark magic.”
“I am aware of the false assumptions. Quickly come to the point,” advised the Regent.
Rather than grow angry or frustrated at the interruption, Habreel quickly adapted. “I humbly submit that now is the time for Zecorria to lead the way. If you were to establish a nationwide ban on Seekers, it would send a clear message to the people here, and to the Red Tower.”
“Bettina tells me you also have a theory. That Seekers are waking dormant magic in children, providing them with more soldiers for their army of mages.”
Habreel’s smile held no warmth. “Whether my belief is true or not, the facts speak for themselves. Magic is destructive and dangerous. The few good deeds carried out by one or two mages do not outweigh the number of dead when compared to those who abuse its power. They did nothing to earn it. I’ve been told it occurs at random in children. That it’s not passed down in the blood.”
Choilan glanced over at Bettina for confirmation and she reluctantly agreed with what Habreel had said so far.
“People are angry and afraid,” he continued. “Here, people are tired of being blamed for all the ills in the world. Children everywhere are dying in grisly ways and somehow magic is involved. That is a fact.”
“It is my belief that banning the Seekers will not solve the problem. In fact it could make it worse,” said the Regent, daring Habreel to question his idea. But he was too sharp and didn’t take the bait.
“That is possible, but I believe a decision needs to be made in Zecorria. I’ve spoken to many people who believe taking matters into their own hands is acceptable. I make no pretence about liking the Seekers, or their Masters, but I do not condone murder and mob rule.”
Choilan grunted but said nothing. His thoughts of where this would inevitably lead were similar to those of Habreel. Failure to act on his part could lead to a dangerous situation where he had to bring in the army to make sure that his decrees were enforced. Working against the common will of the people would also put his position in jeopardy. He held the reins of the country through his continuing popularity. Choilan had no birthright or noble ancestry like those before him. He knew Habreel was not telling him everything, and yet he agreed that doing nothing was not an option.
“If you ban all Seekers and then all mages in Zecorria, the magic in children will go unused and wither away.” Habreel spoke with confidence but Choilan had his doubts. “I know some doubt my assuredness, but since the Seekers returned, far more children are being found with magic than before. If the same number were being born every year before that, what happened to them all?”
The answer to that question worried Choilan a great deal. In the last twenty years there would have been dozens of stories about children going missing or accidents, both at home and abroad in the west, but there were almost none. Not every child born with magic would have been able to control it by themselves. Perhaps a small number could learn it without training, but what about the rest? What had happened to them?
Or there was the possibility that what Habreel claimed was true.
“You’ve given me much to consider. I may call on you again,” said the Regent, dismissing him with a wave. Bettina saw him out of the room and then returned a short time later. He couldn’t decipher the sour expression on her face which made her look as if she had been sucking on a lemon.
“Speak.”
“I do not like or trust that man,” said Bettina.
“Neither of which is a concern if he is right.”
Bettina chewed her lip and some of the prideful scorn eased from her features. “A nationwide ban on all Seekers would be a popular move. It would send a bold statement to the people.” Choilan could see that admitting Habreel’s idea could work pained her.
“And?”
“If properly phrased, it would show that we, as a nation, are in control of our own destiny. That we will not allow history to repeat itself. We won’t be led around by the nose by the likes of the Warlock and magic of any kind.”
“But?” he asked, sensing the trap.
“If the number of children with magic does not fall, we’ll know the Seekers had nothing to do with it.”
“But if they do then it could be the start of something new. This ban would be a temporary measure at best. But it could have wider implications if it works here.” The thought of being the start of a wave that spread across the world appealed to Choilan. Too often the kings and queens of Zecorria had either been tame, achieving little during their rule, or they had been driven by insane passions. To change the course of events, even in a small way, would be a good way to be remembered by the historians.
“I will consider Habreel’s idea. In the meantime I will speak in public about magic and the latest atrocity with the dead boy.” It would give him the opportunity to gauge how a proclamation would be received. “Arrange for my second wife to visit the village and speak to the people. Give them some money to help with rebuilding and so on. Also begin drawing up the paperwork for a ban on all Seekers in the meantime.”
“Yes, my Regent.”
“And Bettina,” he said, making her pause as she retreated from the room. “Be very clear in the document that any Seekers are to be escorted to the border and asked to leave. I will not tolerate any violence towards them.” He would not sanction widespread murder of any kind against people who might not be responsible for what had happened. It also wouldn’t do to
be on bad terms with the Red Tower if this turned out to be the wrong decision. One mage had torn the world apart. A whole school full of them, unsupervised except by their own kind, greatly troubled him.
“Yes, my Regent.”
“And have someone find out more about this Habreel. Who is he and where did he come from?”
Bettina offered a rare and genuine smile which disturbed him as it was so alien an expression for her. “I took the liberty of starting an investigation after his first visit.”
“Of course you did,” said the Regent, dismissing her. Events were in motion that he could not control. Now all that remained was to see if he would be another victim or witness to what transpired, or if he would become one of the architects of the future. Choilan hoped for the latter so that his legacy would outshine that of the Mad King.
CHAPTER 17
Tianne closed her eyes, turned her face towards the sunlight, and for a moment she forgot about everything. Every fourth day they were given some time to themselves, for prayer and study, but today she was using the time to catch up on her sleep. This was the third time in a week they’d been given a few hours to themselves, something that had not happened since she’d arrived almost a year ago.
To her left Danoph lay dozing in the sun. When the clouds parted and sunlight touched his golden skin it seemed to shimmer. Even asleep it looked as if he were carrying a heavy weight. His shoulders were hunched, his forehead creased and eyebrows drawn down. Perhaps he was worrying about his country, Shael, and the future of his people. They had lost almost everything, but, unlike most, he didn’t blame her personally, or all of Zecorria, for what had happened during the war.
On her right Wren could have been sleeping, but instead she was reading a book on Talents she’d borrowed from the library. So far she’d been able to stay on Master Ottah’s good side, but if she stained the pages with grass that would be the end of his leniency.
Tianne could see her lips moving as she went over something again and again, trying to squeeze meaning from the vague text. There were no half-measures with her. Wren pushed herself in all of their classes and had earned the admiration of her teachers for her tenacity, even when she failed.
Tianne only wanted to learn enough to get by. She’d just about given up on finding a Talent and was getting used to disappointment. Wren seemed to take each failure personally and would try even harder the next time. So far she’d had three nosebleeds and had passed out twice from overexerting herself. Tianne thought some of the other students were afraid of her because of this, not what she’d done to Brunwal.
Wren had already proven that she was the strongest in their dormitory, but that wasn’t enough for her. As Master Jorey had said, much could be done with even a weak connection to the Source. You just had to know how. Despite being told it might never happen, she was determined to prove she was proficient in at least one Talent. Tianne watched as Wren studied the next Talent in the list and then tried to weave together what was described. She could feel her drawing energy from the Source and it created a faint echo between them like a second pulse.
Tianne still remembered the first time she’d drawn power into herself from the Source. It was a feeling unlike anything she’d ever experienced and still had trouble describing.
At times, when growing up in Zecorria, she’d felt disconnected from those around her. The moment she’d reached towards that disturbance on the edge of her senses, everything had changed. The hollow spaces within were filled with light. Everything she saw became clearer, the colours more vibrant, and she felt connected to something greater than herself.
Every week she’d gone to church with her parents, but no matter how hard she prayed Tianne never felt what the priests and other people spoke about. The benevolent presence of the Lady of Light. To fit in she had pretended, but here at the Red Tower there was no need to lie any more.
The Source gave her a sense of belonging. Her family was her blood, but Tianne felt connected on a deeper level to other mages, and her friends even more so.
“I can feel you staring,” said Wren, without looking up from the page. “Did you want to ask me something?”
“No,” said Tianne, quickly looking away. She pulled up a few blades of grass and started twisting them into a chain. A minute later she was studying her friend’s profile again. With a sigh Wren put the book down and turned towards her.
“You have something on your mind?”
Tianne shrugged. “Don’t you find it strange that we’ve been given free time again? The last time was only two days ago.”
“It’s not free time. You’re supposed to be studying or at prayer.”
“Fine, study time. But it’s never been this often. Once a week at most.”
Wren frowned. “I will admit, it is peculiar.”
“I met a girl yesterday, and she said her class on Talents was cancelled. Apparently Master Jorey was called away on urgent business. I’ve seen other teachers riding out of the gates in a hurry and now we’re here, again.” Tianne gestured at the space around them. Not far away other groups of students were lounging in the sun, sleeping, reading and playing cards. The oldest students, those eighteen and above, were noticeably absent. She guessed they were at the nearby town, trying their luck at buying ale from one of the taverns. Most of the owners knew not to sell to students, but there were a few who didn’t care as long as you had money and didn’t cause any trouble.
“Perhaps we should ask one of the teachers,” suggested Wren. “They may have some answers.”
“Who could we ask? Garvey?” joked Tianne.
Wren fiddled with the front cover of her book, opening and closing it before she answered. “I would prefer not to ask him.”
“I told you he was a bastard,” said Tianne. Much to her surprise Wren didn’t disagree and tell her off for speaking ill of a teacher. Her silence spoke volumes. “What happened? Did you talk to him?”
“After what happened with Brunwal I sought his advice. His suggestions were troubling.”
“You can’t trust him,” said Tianne. “Did you know that both Eloise and Balfruss fought against the west during the war?”
“I don’t see the connection.”
“The King of Seveldrom sent out a message for powerful Battlemages to defend the country against the Warlock. Where was Garvey?”
“I don’t know.”
“No one does,” said Tianne. “There’s a rumour he was too far away in the east to help, but I don’t believe it. I think he stayed away because he was afraid.”
Wren smiled at her in a way that Tianne found more than a little condescending. “He is many things, dangerous, cruel and unlikeable, but I do not believe him to be a coward. You know how strong he is. You can feel it.”
Tianne disagreed and still thought him a coward, but she said nothing further. She was confident that time would prove her right, but at least Wren knew that Garvey was dangerous. Hopefully it would be enough to make her stay away from him in the future.
“Perhaps Balfruss might be willing to talk to us about what’s happening,” suggested Wren.
“He’s not here,” said Tianne. “He left two days ago in a hurry. Just before guests arrived to visit Eloise.”
“How is it that you know so much?”
Tianne was aware some people called her a gossip but she preferred to know what was happening around her at all times. The more information she had the more difficult it was for someone to deceive her. She would not fall into that trap again.
Back home some of the local children had used her naïveté against her. They told her stories so often, and with such confidence, that she’d believed them. She would repeat the outlandish tales as facts, leading to public humiliation and a reputation for lying that was impossible to shake.
Sometimes she thought coming to the Red Tower had been one of the best things to happen to her. It gave her a fresh start as no one here knew what she’d done in the past. She was a blank slate without a rep
utation. Her dark eyes marked her apart from most, but she was not the only student from Zecorria. And, despite everything, she’d found a few friends who liked her for who she was now.
“I just like to know what’s going on,” said Tianne with a shrug. She turned her face away so that Wren couldn’t see her wiping at her eyes. It annoyed her that the pain of what had happened during her childhood could still get to her so easily. Wren must have sensed something as she grasped Tianne’s hand.
“Who were the visitors?” she asked gently.
“They looked like Jhanidi.”
“What are those?”
Tianne smiled, feeling a little smug that Wren didn’t know what they were. “They’re warrior monks from the desert kingdoms in the far east. They accept children into their temples and train them to fight with blunt weapons as well as magic. I don’t know why they can’t use swords. It might be a religious thing. But when their training is complete students can choose either to return home to their old lives, or serve the King. Anyone who serves gets a tattoo on their face and wherever they go they’re treated as honoured guests.”
“That would be a nice change,” said Danoph, propping himself up on one elbow. “To be welcomed and not shunned for being a mage.”
“You saw these priests?” said Wren, sounding doubtful.
“Two women. They both had a tattoo here,” said Tianne, tracing a vertical line down from her forehead across her right eye to her jaw.
Danoph’s frown deepened. He was probably wondering the same thing as Tianne. Why had they come to the Red Tower? And why now?
The sound of heavy footsteps made everyone who was dozing sit up suddenly and pretend to be reading. The decks of cards disappeared and an unnatural silence fell across all the groups. Choss came around the corner and marched on without looking around or noticing. Tianne thought he looked tense. He had one hand resting on a short sword that he had recently taken to wearing.
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