Allin looked up from the corner seat where she sat with her sewing. 'Is he like a Duke, then?'

'No, he's far more important. When he says it's about to rain, everyone from the Emperor down puts up their hood.'

Casuel looked at Allin; she was neatly turned out today, he'd made sure of that, but he was still uneasy about having her here. He had planned to send her out with a handful of copper to amuse herself shopping or something but typically it turned out to be the guest-house washday so no maid was free to accompany her on the one occasion when he would have been glad of her unquashable tendency to befriend servants at the spit of a candle.

'He's the most important man you'll ever meet, so sit still and keep quiet,' he said forbiddingly. Her Lescari accent would sound appallingly commonplace in such company.

'He might be the most important Tormalin.' Darni looked round. 'I'd say Planir's the most important man of all.'

Allin jabbed nervously at her seam with her needle. 'Will I have to meet him as well?'

'Yes, but don't worry, he's very approachable.' Darni smiled at her. 'We'll get you to Hadrumal soon, I promise. I'll introduce you to Strell, my wife. She's an alchemist so she knows lots of fire-mages; she'll soon get you fixed up.'

'Thank you for your interest, Darni, but I shall be arranging Allin's apprenticeship,' Casuel said firmly.

'Surely there's no harm in looking at all the offers?' Darni tried to look innocent. 'You can help her choose the best.'

Allin looked from one to the other, faint surprise animating her round face, eyes brightening. 'I'll be able to choose?'

'I should say so.' Darni nodded. 'New fire affinities are in demand at the moment.'

'I think we should concentrate on the matter in hand,' Casuel said repressively. Allin ducked her head over her sewing again but a small, pleased smile played around the corners of her mouth.

The business of the morning carried on outside their window; visitors came and went, people came to make offerings at Ostrin's shrine and distant calls could be heard from the market beyond the wall. Allin worked her way through most of Casuel's mending and Darni must have examined every bit of the sparsely furnished waiting-room, its handful of chairs, the table and the series of engravings depicting various of Ostrin's travels in disguise to test the hospitality of kings and princes. At last they heard the jangle of the front bell.

'At last,' Darni exclaimed.

'Remember what I told you about conducting yourself properly, Allin.' Casuel smoothed his hair with nervous hands, hastily tucking books and workbasket under the settle.

The door opened and a liveried youth entered. 'Messire D'Olbriot awaits you in the reception room,' he announced in a condescending tone.

'Does he, indeed?' Darni's face hardened and Casuel stepped hurriedly forward.

'Thank you, my man.' Casuel swept past the flunkey, pressing a coin into his hand. The lackey stared at it in momentary puzzlement, so effectively disconcerted that he had to scramble to get past Allin as she trotted obediently after the wizard. Darni sauntered after them with an appreciative grin.

'Messire D'Olbriot.' The lackey bowed them all through the door, still taut with outrage. Casuel acknowledged the footman with a superior nod and then bent low in a servile obeisance before the four men seated before them on elegant chairs set around a gleaming table bearing a vase of fresh flowers.

'Messire, I have the honour to be Casuel Devoir, mage. My companions are Darni Fallion, agent to the Archmage, and Allin Mere, apprentice.'

Allin's petticoats swept the floor as she dropped so deep a curtsey she nearly fell over. Darni caught her elbow and steadied her as he inclined somewhat stiffly from the waist.

The four men rose and bowed politely in return.

'May I introduce my elder brother, the son of my first sister and my youngest son.' The Prince indicated his companions in turn, to Casuel's profound relief. He bowed again, studying this leading patron and his advisors covertly.

Messire D'Olbriot was well into his prime, a stout man with receding grey hair, a plump face and deceptively watery eyes. His brother was definitely on the verge of old age, deep wrinkles drawing his jowls into a lugubrious expression though his expression was keen. The nephew was some years the senior of the younger man, both already showing a tendency to excess weight although expensive tailoring concealed this fairly effectively thus far. As well as a considerable family resemblance, the four faces showed all the self-assurance of wealth and influence.

'Devoir?' The nephew spoke suddenly. 'Would your father be a pepper merchant in Orelwood?'

'Indeed.' Casuel forced a nervous smile; his father would not thank him for attracting this kind of notice if he made a mess of things.

'Then you are a brother of the composer, Amalin Devoir?'

All eyes turned to Casuel with new interest and he bowed low again, suffering a stab of pain from his damaged ribs, scarcely less painful than his chagrin. Would he ever meet a cultured Tormalin who recognised him for himself, not just in relation to his bumptious little brother?

'I heard your brother's new composition in Toremal; your father must be very proud,' Messire D'Olbriot said politely.

'My father is no one in particular and I have no brothers but I answer personally to the Archmage.' Formal courtesies were clearly not to Darni's taste. 'May I know your answer to our request?'

All the blue-grey eyes turned to the warrior. Messire D'Olbriot drew a parchment from one of his wide sleeves.

'Your letter came as something of a surprise,' he commented. 'I was concerned at not hearing from Ryshad for so long but I was aware his enquires could take him beyond the reach of the Despatch. Do you know where he is at present?'

'I have scryed for him and our associates.' Casuel took a cautious pace closer to Darni. 'At present all we can tell is that they are on a fishing boat, somewhere deep on the ocean.'

'Then we've seen the last of him and Aiten,' the brother observed dourly. 'We shall mourn their loss.'

'Not necessarily,' Darni replied firmly. 'Our colleague is a wizard with considerable experience and many talents over water.'

'Do you know where they are heading?' the nephew asked, leaning forward, clearly intrigued.

'A group of islands, far to the east.' Casuel tried to rub his sweating hands discreetly on the back of his jerkin.

'And what do they hope to discover there?'

'We believe this to be the home of a race of yellow-haired men who are responsible for a series of thefts and violent attacks.'

D'Olbriot looked at his relatives in turn, eyebrows raised in question; the brother shook his head, the son shrugged and the nephew pursed his lips.

'We need a boat to enable us to pursue them.' Darni's impatience was becoming evident. 'We hoped you might assist us.'

'Garbled tales for children and contrary legends speak of islands in the east,' the brother stated grimly. 'The only thing they agree on is the ill fate that befalls anyone who reaches them.'

'In that case, we can only hope Ryshad and Aiten fail to find them.' The nephew looked thoughtful. 'They are in some considerable peril whether they make a landfall or not, that much is certain.'

Messire was rereading the letter. He looked up. 'You evidently know of the crimes against our blood of which these men are guilty. What is your interest, beyond a natural love of justice?' His voice was neutral but there was a glint in his eye.

'One of our colleagues has been abducted by a group of these fair-haired men. He is a scholar working on the Archmage's business; he is also my friend.' Darni stared down at the seated Prince.

D'Olbriot returned his gaze steadily. 'What is this business of the Archmage that is so vital? Does it affect this strange blond race?'