Now all was silent apart from the heavy tread of the mercenaries as they began efficiently clearing the enclosure. Odd words grew into low-voiced conversations as more people arrived.
“How secure is the wall?” Arest’s voice startled me from Temar’s reverie and I looked around to see him shouting at Minare. “Any breaches worth worrying about?”
“Not so far!” the mercenary replied, not looking around as he and his lads continued cutting their way through the clinging vines, bright scarlet flowers masking vicious thorns.
“I think I can determine that for you,” Planir’s voice turned heads all around the enclave. The Archmage stooped through the sally port and laid one long-fingered hand on the dark stone of the jamb. A crackle of amber light danced around his fingers and seemed to vanish into the masonry. “There,” Planir pointed to a section of the wall obscured by masses of leaves hanging down over the top. “A tree has disturbed the foundations and the whole wall is cracked. It’ll probably come down if a heavy-footed owl lands on it.”
I looked around for Livak at this and saw her auburn hair catching in the evening sun as she clambered over the tangle of fallen beams and timbers that choked the hall. She looked around and saw me, waving with a satisfied smile as she looked down on mercenaries too heavily armored and too clumsy to follow her.
“How are we going to clear this lot, wizard?” she shouted to Planir.
“Let me show you.” Otrick appeared from somewhere and a swirl of blue radiance gathered up Livak to carry her bodily through the air and deposit her neatly at my side. White beneath her tan, she clutched at me to steady herself and I was glad of the excuse to put an arm around her and draw her close. “Stuffing wizards,” she muttered shakily, glaring at Otrick with something closer to outright dislike than the wary amusement he usually elicited from her.
The same azure light was now coming from a couple of other mages as more people crowded into this decayed sanctuary. I realized I was standing with my mouth open as massive balks of rotting wood were lifted out of the hollow hall, floating impossibly to stack themselves neatly beside the weak point Planir had identified in the wall. I was not the only one; all the mercenaries halted to gape at the spectacle and exchange startled looks.
“Do you reckon any of this lot would take a hire with a decent corps?” Arest jested with a creditable attempt at maintaining his poise. “We could put whoever we liked on the Lescari throne with that kind of help!”
I made a mental note to try and keep the mercenary commander apart from Kalion, though I had the impression the Hearth-Master would be more inclined to want to deal with Dukes and Princes than the men who kept them in their positions of power. Dressed for once in voluminous breeches, more practical than his usual florid robes, the fat mage was directing one of Tonin’s pupils to lay out his bed roll beneath an awning that two others were erecting with some difficulty. As I watched a couple of mercenaries took the canvas and ropes from the scholars and had the shelter securely rigged inside a handful of moments.
“The first thing we need is to determine the layout of the town,” Arest turned to address the Archmage in tones that brooked no argument. “We could spend the next couple of seasons clearing thickets and piles of fallen stones and barely scratch the surface.”
Planir looked at me, gray eyes as unfathomable as the night seas. “You could save us a great deal of time here, Ryshad. Shiv tells me you’ve been seeing the place as Temar knew it.”
I shot an irritated glare at Shiv, who colored faintly. “I’m sorry, but the Archmage needs to know,” he said apologetically.
“That might help some, I suppose—” Arest’s skepticism would have annoyed me intensely in any other circumstances, but this was not the time to force any kind of trial of strength or will.
“I’m not prepared to let D’Alsennin loose inside my head if that’s what you’re hoping, Archmage,” I said curtly. I was having enough difficulty keeping Temar’s intrusive recollections barred securely at the back of my mind as it was.
Arest continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “—but I’d rather rely on proven magic. We need you wizards to give us the lay of the land as it was when this place was built, to do whatever you can to identify key buildings and places—the market, for instance. That’s where we might find metalwork, even gems, valuables that will have withstood Maewelin’s teeth. You did say we would be entitled to any spoils we found.” The challenge in his demand was unmistakable.
“I have been telling my colleagues much the same,” agreed Planir peaceably. “Obviously, a priority is the scrying in support of the information Mentor Tonin has culled from his researches; we must locate this cavern as soon as possible, after all, but we will make sure you get every assistance from the mages not directly required at present.”
“I could help, Archmage, I’m not needed for scrying.” I looked around to see one of the younger wizards, a man a few seasons younger than myself. Dressed in gray with a red-trimmed collar to his jerkin, I recognized him from the Council meeting.
“Thank you, Naldeth, that would be most helpful.” Planir bowed briefly. “Please excuse me.”
I followed Naldeth’s eyes and saw he was studying Maraide, the lass with all the glossy brown curls. “Do you know if she’s a follower for anyone in particular?” he asked me, his gaze covetous.
I have to admit I was finding the reactions of the wizards to the mercenaries more amusing than anything else. The ship had been rife with increasingly lurid speculations in avid undertones as we had sailed to Carif and I recalled Naldeth had been the source of some of the wilder tales of turbulent adventure and limitless wealth, far removed from the truths of life as a sword for hire, as Aiten had told it to me. He’d have found all this highly entertaining, that much I was certain.
“None of the women in this troop are followers for the foot soldiers or courtesans for the commanders either,” I told the mage firmly. “They’re here for their fighting skills and if you’re interested in anything more I suggest you wait for the lady to indicate an interest. Put a hand wrong and I imagine you’ll be served your stones on a skewer.”
“Oh.” Naldeth’s face fell, to my relief. That kind of disturbance would do little for the harmony of this expedition and, besides, I’d seen Maraide leaving Planir’s cabin with a discreet air of satisfaction on more than one occasion on the long voyage, when the menace of Temar’s memories had made sleep impossible. Even that passing thought brought new visions of Den Rannion’s steading to the fore, the past and the lost hemming me in on all sides. I blinked and tried to rub away the tenseness in my neck, driving the encroaching recollections away with increasing difficulty.
A series of whistles alerted Rosarn’s troop and I saw them gathering at the sally port, axes and long knives to hand.
“If you want to help, now’s your chance,” I said to him crisply. “Come on, I want to have a look around for myself.”
What I really wanted was to quit this place before I lost my grip on present reality all together. As I walked rapidly across the enclosure, Livak hurried to meet us, slipping her hand in mine as she slid me a sideways glance of concern. I squeezed her hand with a reassurance I did not really feel as we listened to Rosarn’s crisp instructions. I stifled a brief longing for the simpler days, when Aiten and I had stood taking our orders with a similar lack of question or personal involvement in our tasks.
“I want to know exactly where this town starts and ends, and I want to know what state the buildings are in. Look out for snakes and stingers. We’ll all need to know if you see anything so remember color and size. I imagine anything bigger will move itself sharpish once we start making a noise, but be careful in case anything’s laired up in a hollow somewhere. Big Thorfi, you take your section over the way, Clever Thorfi, keep the road to your off hand.”