The noises of the inn woke me, the rattle of harness and stamp of hooves in the yard and the sounds of conversation and drinking below. I checked the sun as I dressed for my role as poor but comparatively honest villager; it was quite a lot later than I had intended to rise but I felt refreshed despite my night excursion. Cold water woke me up fully and I checked the pouch under my pillow to reassure myself that it had not all been a wishful dream. The tankard was there and in the daylight I could see I had chosen a fine piece. The silver had the rich sheen of old Tormalin work and the maker's mark was distinct and central on the base, another good sign. I did not recognise it but silver's not my thing; I'm better on paintings. Should I take it to Col myself if the market was rising? I thought about it but the whole idea had been to get some money so I could wait for Halice and, in any case, since it was such a good piece, I did not want to be the one left holding it if the theft was noticed and the local Watch came looking. This merchant, whoever he might be, could have it and welcome. All I wanted was the pay-off.
I breakfasted rapidly and, taking out my hired horse, rode for Ambafost, cursing the inconvenience of unaccustomed skirts. The road was busy now it was past mid-morning and the previous days of rain had given way to sunshine. Farm carts and local carriages were rumbling along, occasionally overtaken by horsemen in twos and threes or delayed by a plodding mule train. This was both good and bad; more potential witnesses to identify me if someone came looking, but by the same token more faces for me to get lost amongst. I wondered about changing inns but there was the problem of Halice; I didn't want to miss any message she might send. It was market day and the square in Ambafost was packed; stalls offered everything from vegetables and meat to Dalasorian glassware and Aldabreshin silks; some merchants were clearly trading their way down to Col. People jostled and shoved and shouted, the melee smelling of damp wool and leather mingling with the scents of baking bread overhead and animal dung underfoot. I like this kind of market; they offer excellent cover. A few beggars were trying their luck without much success but there was no sign of any Watch coming to move them on which I was happy to see.
I found the Running Hound easily and forced my way through the crowd. Several carriers' coaches had just arrived and there were passengers shouting at each other as they tried to find out when the next stage of their journey would begin: some needed to change routes, some wanted food, children were crying and one couple decided to start a major domestic dispute in the centre of the hall. A Rationalist was being completely ignored as she tried to find someone to bore with her theories on why advances in magic and science meant no one need bother with the gods nowadays.
'Where's the merchant interested in buying antiquities?' I grabbed a passing potman by the elbow.
'Private parlour behind the gentles' bar.' He shook off my hand and went on his way without even looking at me.
The clamour shrank to a murmur in the tap-room reserved for gentlefolk; there were settles here and sweet herbs among the rushes on the floor. The barkeeper gave me a sharp look but since I was evidently not a farmer or stockman, decided to give me the benefit of the doubt. I gave him my brightest smile, the one that says cute but dim.
'I just got into town and someone told me there's a merchant looking to buy antiquities. Could I speak to him please?'
'I'll let him know you're here. He's busy at the moment.' He polished the already spotless pewter of the goblet he was holding.
I did not want to force the issue so repeated the smile. 'I'll have a cup of wine while I wait then. Have one yourself.' I dropped a Mark on the counter and took the wine he poured, without waiting for change.
As I sat in a discreet corner, I saw two women come out of the parlour together; one with a smug smirk, the other trying to conceal her chagrin.
'It's a shame, dear,' the first said to her stout companion. 'Your father always swore those stones were genuine.'
The woman smoothed the blue brocade of her gown. 'The sentimental value remains. It's not as if I needed to sell like you.'
The first woman's lips narrowed. 'Times are changing, dear. There's no room for sentiment in business nowadays.'
They swept out of the street door together and I caught the barkeeper's eye as he put a flagon of wine and some goblets on a tray. He gestured to me and I headed over.
'You'd better not be wasting his time,' he warned as he opened the door for me.
'Good morning, my name's Terilla.'
I fixed on the bright smile again and looked at the three men sitting across the table in the small sun-filled room. In the centre a heavily built man in red broadcloth leant back against the wall and looked at me unsmiling. He was dark of hair and beard, his rings were heavy gold without gems and unless I was mistaken he had a knife up his left sleeve. I could not see his boots under the table but he struck me as the type to have more than one blade about him; unusual in a merchant. His companions were an ill-assorted pair; to his right sat a wiry type in rough leathers over green linen. It did not suit his sallow skin and long black hair but he did not look the kind to care. He was idly casting runes as he sat, one hand against the other, and my fingers itched. The other one looked as if he had wandered in here by mistake but he was drinking wine so he had to be part of the team. Perhaps he was an apprentice of some sort: he was certainly young enough. He was wearing sensible brown homespun, close-cropped fair hair and an earnest expression; I doubted he was carrying a blade, he looked the sort to stab himself in the leg with it.
The silence was getting awkward so I dropped the smile and opened my belt pouch.
'I just got in on the coach from Sowford. Someone said you were buying Tormalin pieces and I wondered what you might give me for this.' I put the tankard on the table.
The man in red looked at it but did not pick it up.
'Where are you heading?' The rune-caster swept up his bones and gave me a frank and friendly smile that I trusted about as much as my own.
'I'm travelling to Oakmont, to join Lord Elkith's Players.' Both places were several days' travel east and west respectively and he was welcome to try finding me later in a travelling troupe of actors. I held his gaze but out of the corner of my eye could see the quiet lad pick up the tankard and start examining it.
'Working with players must be exciting. What do you do?' He leaned forward, all interest.
Don't overdo it, pal, I thought, I don't look that fresh off the farm surely.
'I'm a singer,' I replied. That much at least was true, it's another of those skills I mentioned. Despite the shades of my mother's disapproval, I'd learned a good repertoire of ballads and some basic dance tunes for the lute.
'Will you be travelling to Col for the fair?'
The boss was looking expectantly at the lad. Was he some kind of expert? He looked rather young.
'I'm not sure.' I thought it was about time I asked some questions of my own. 'Are you looking to trade at the fair? Perhaps I should take Grandad's tankard there myself.'
I saw the shadow of concern cross the lad's freckles. He looked at his boss and something unspoken passed between them. It struck me as a pity I could not get him in a game, he'd lose his breeches with a face like that.
'It was your grandfather's? How do you come to be looking to sell it?' The boss smiled at me in what he clearly thought was encouragement. I giggled: wearing skirts does that to me nowadays.
'Oh it's mine all right,' I lied fluently. 'He gave it to me on his deathbed, for my dowry. I wouldn't sell it but you see, I need to get away from home. I want to sing but my father wants me to marry his partner's son. He's a clothier and fat and boring and only interested in wools and satins. I had to get away.'
Freckle-face's mouth was open and his expression was full of sympathy but the other two looked less impressed. Perhaps I'd laid it on a bit thick; I blame the dress. 'So how much would you give me?' 'What do you think it's worth?' The man in red leaned forward and I took a pace back, his gaze was uncomfortably piercing.
'Um, well, I'm not really sure.' Should I take a low price and get out or show them I knew its real value? 'I'll give you six Marks for it.'
'Caladhrian or Tormalin?' Either way, the offer was a joke.
'Tormalin of course,' he assured me; as if the six extra pennies would make any real difference.
'The reeve always said it was very valuable.' I looked up, wide-eyed and woebegone. 'Isn't it?'
Freckles shifted in his chair and would have spoken but Lanky in the green silenced him with a gesture. The boss sat back and ran a hand over his beard.
'It's worth what I'm willing to pay for it,' he said silkily, 'and that's six Marks, which I feel is more than generous, since I know it's stolen.'
Shit. Now I was looking to get out of there as fast as possible. Should I try and bluff it through? No point, I decided swiftly.
'Fine. Give me the coin and I'll be on my way. I've got a coach to catch.'
Lanky drew a swift pattern in some spilled wine. There was not a soul in the room beyond us four yet the bolts on the door slid shut behind me. A chill went right through me. Double shit.
'I'm sure you've got time for a little chat,' the boss said smoothly, making no move to get any money out. 'Why don't you tell us where you got this? You could tell us your real name too since we're here.'
'I got lucky in a game a few nights back. Some bloke in an inn wagered the tankard; I didn't know it was lifted.'
The skinny one poured me some wine but I ignored him. Catch me drinking with a wizard; not likely.
'Not good enough, I'm afraid.' The boss sipped his wine and wiped his beard. 'This tankard is part of a small but valuable collection belonging to a particularly unpleasant wool merchant in Hawtree. You see, we approached him but his price was too high.'
'Why did you choose this particular piece to steal?' Freckle-face could contain himself no longer and the boss scowled at the interruption. I looked at the windows but did not fancy my chances of getting out fast.
'Relax, we're not going to hurt you.' Lanky pushed the wine towards me again. That was all very well for him to say. I do not trust wizards; not at all. It's not that I believe all the ballads: the immunity to pain, the immense powers, the reading minds and so on. The few I've known have been handy with some spells but as vulnerable as anyone else to a knife in the ribs. As far as I'm concerned, wizards are dangerous because their concerns are exclusively their own. They will be looking for something, travelling somewhere, after someone to hear his news or just to find out who his father was, don't ask me why. Whatever they want, they'll walk over hot coals to do it and if you look handy, they'll lay you down and use you as a footbridge. I gave Lanky a hard stare back.
'We won't but the local Watch might have other ideas.' The boss lifted the tankard. 'He's an influential man. Catching the thief would do the Commander a lot of good.'
I was not going to reply; he had the air of a man making an opening bid and I would bet I had played in more high-stakes games than he had.
The silence lengthened. I could hear the din of the marketplace outside; traders shouting their wares, beasts neighing and carts clattering over the cobbles. Two drunks lurched past the window, giggling helplessly, their shadows falling across us all waiting, motionless. The tension grew so thick you could have stuck a spoon in it and spread it on bread. The boss was impassive, Lanky smiled and Freckles looked frankly miserable.
'Of course, we need not tell the Watch anything.' Lanky grinned and lifted the untouched goblet to me in a toast. The boss scowled at him but went on.
'You see, there are other pieces we would like to acquire whose owners are not keen to sell and I wonder if we could come to some arrangement. You clearly have talents we could use.'
Good, we were down to business. 'Why can't your tame conjuror just magic them out for you?'
'I need to know exactly where they are and to get a sight of them,' Lanky shrugged. 'Can't always be done.'
So, no problem with ethics here. That made things easier.
'What you're saying is work for you or you'll hand me over to the Watch and let them cut my hands off.' Freckles winced and I marked him down as the weak link in the chains they were trying to lock on me.
'Basically, yes.' The boss's stare was getting distinctly unfriendly.
'We'd make it worth your while,' Lanky assured me. 'You'd get a good percentage of the value.'
'Fat lot of use that'll be if I get caught.'
'I'll be able to get you out of any lock-up. Once I know you a little better, I'll be able to track you like a trail-hound.'
That was a thrilling prospect, a wizard on my tail whom I would not be able to shake off.
'What if some outraged noble sticks his sword into me to save the Watch the worry?' I challenged. 'Can you bring me back from Saedrin's lock-up too? I didn't think wizards did resurrections.'
'If you're good enough to find this,' the boss picked up my tankard again, 'you're good enough to take the time and care to not get caught.'
He laced his fingers and cracked his knuckles with a satisfied air which gave me one more reason to dislike him. 'In any case, I don't think you're in any position to argue the point, are you?'
Sadly, I had to agree. We could spend all day trading clever remarks, with Lanky playing friendly house-dog to the boss's nasty street-cur but I was not going to get out of here before they agreed to let me go, whatever wild ideas keeping me in here gave the innkeeper. I could give them a flat refusal but I did not like the idea of being handed over to the Watch. I could probably sob my way to a flogging or the pillory but what if the Commander decided to hang on to me until Turd-breath the would-be rapist got home? I kept my gambling face nailed on but I was cursing myself: that's where revenge gets you, you dozy bitch.
'All right,' I said slowly. I took the wine, drained the goblet and refilled it. That made me feel better. 'So what's your business? You're not just buying and selling with a wizard and a scholar in tow. What's so important that you have to hire a wall-crawler?'
'You need not worry about that. My name is Darni and my companions are Geris and Shivvalan.'
'Shiv, please,' Lanky smiled. 'Your name?'
'Terilla, I told you.' That was my aunt who had married a baker and grown as round as one of his loaves.
Shiv shook his head apologetically. 'You're lying again.'
That could get tiresome; I decided to think very carefully before volunteering any information about myself. Still, they had to call me something. Why not the real thing?
'I'm Livak.' I raised my goblet in an ironic toast and Shiv returned it.
Darni snorted. 'Right, we'll get you a room here. We're moving on tomorrow; in the meantime, keep yourself to yourself.'
I shook my head. 'Sorry, I'm staying at an inn back up the high road. I'll see you in the morning.'
Darni looked at me contemptuously. 'Don't ever make the mistake of thinking I'm stupid.'
'I've got luggage there and a bill to pay,' I snapped back.
'I'll go with her to collect it,' Shiv volunteered and Darni's angry colour subsided.
'While I'm out, you can decide on a proper deal for my services. I'll owe you for not ringing the Watch bell on me over the tankard but don't push it. I want half the value of everything I lift, for a start.'
Darni evidently didn't like that idea.
'Be back before dusk,' he said curtly.
Shiv unbolted the door — normally this time — and waved me through with a courtly gesture.
'So what were your plans?' Shiv sat on his solid black cob like a sack of grain as we headed out along the high road. I noted the worn gear and the droop of the tired horse's head. My hired horse on the other hand was fresh and keen; I pictured the road ahead in my mind and thought about a good spot where I could kick into a gallop and lose him. I'd wager my abilities at getting lost against his tracking skills, whatever they might be. They were welcome to my luggage at the inn; they would find no clues about me in it.
We waited for a heavily laden wagon to negotiate a rutted wallow.
'I hope we haven't inconvenienced you too much, Livak.'
That nearly did it; he was setting himself up as a handy target for my frustration.
'Were you travelling to Col for the Fair? Wouldn't thieving there risk falling foul of the local talent?'
I ignored him. A donkey began making a fuss about something behind us and, as Shiv turned, I dug my heels into my job-horse's flanks. Fresh from days in the stable, he stretched out eagerly for a gallop and I lay down on his neck to avoid the branches.
Suddenly he came to a crashing halt and I hit the ground hard; I've never managed that'relax as you fall' trick horse traders tell you about. For one awful moment I thought the horse must have put a foot in a rabbit hole; I did not want the poor beast's death on my conscience. After a moment he scrambled to his feet; I did the same. Nothing broken, thank Halcarion, but I'd be black and blue.
'Sorry about that, but I don't think Darni would be too pleased if I lost you.'
I looked up to see Shiv sitting alert on his big black steed with green light glowing round his hands.
'You bastard, I could have been killed.' I spat leaf mould.
'No, I made sure of that.' The concern in his voice sounded almost genuine. 'I don't blame you for trying, Livak,' he assured me.
'Easy for you to say.' I swore as the horse shifted and had me dancing on one foot, the other in the stirrup iron.
'Here.' Shiv caught the reins. 'Just give me your word that you won't try that again.'
'Thanks,' I said stiffly. 'All right, I'll swear.' I rattled off the standard vow to Misaen.
'I can appreciate you being annoyed at Darni dragging you into all this.' The wizard persisted in trying to be friendly. I was having none of it.
'Oh, can you really? Has he threatened you to get your co-operation? Have you had your plans completely ripped up? Are your friends going to worry themselves sick when you don't turn up as expected?'
He looked uncomfortable. 'We really do need your help.'
'Can't get rich enough? I thought wizards were supposed to keep honest with their magic. Isn't that what stops us ordinary folk from stoning you all as a flaming menace?'
'This is not about money. We're buying up special pieces for the Archmage.'
I could smell the scorching as those hot coals got closer.
'I don't want to know,' I snapped. 'I'll do a couple of jobs for your boss to even the scales, but if you come sniffing after me, you'll find trouble.'
He dropped his gaze in the face of my challenging stare. 'Fair enough. By the way, Darni is not my boss. I can overrule him if he tries to take unfair advantage.'
That could be interesting to see, a wizard's idea of unfair.
'What about the boy? Does he get a say?' Let him think he was winning me over, see what else he'd tell me.
'Geris?' Shiv laughed. 'He wouldn't dare.'
'Is he a mage or what? Is he your apprentice?'
'No, he's what you guessed, a scholar. He's from the University at Vanam, an expert on Tormalin art.'
The world can be a very small place at times; I'm from Vanam originally and I know the grim facade of the University. It's one of those places that only looks good in soft light or snow. I have no idea what the inside is like; it's strictly for the wealthy who can afford to send surplus sons and daughters off to learn Saedrin knows what useless stuff. I decided to cosy up to Geris if I got the chance and see what I could get out of him. I did not figure he would take much unpeeling.
'What about Darni, then? Is he a mage?'
'No, not really.'
'What's that supposed to mean? I thought you got born a wizard.'
'We do in so far as elemental affinity is innate, but it's not as simple as that.'
'I beg your pardon?'
Shiv had the grace to look abashed. 'Sorry. A wizard's power comes from the elements; the ability to affect an element is what makes you a wizard and that's something you're born with. It comes from within; we're still trying to establish how, and it varies in strength. Really powerful mages are quite rare in fact, and since most people only have one affinity, that limits them in any case.'
'So what about Darni?' I persisted.
'He has a double affinity which is unusual, but it's very weak. His parents live in Hadrumal; his mother cooks for one of the Halls and his father's a baker. If he'd lived anywhere else, no one would have noticed his talent. He'd just have been a chap with a knack for starting fires in difficult conditions and a better-than-usual weather sense.'
I'd never really thought about Hadrumal, fabled city of the Archmage, having cooks and bakers. It rather undermined all the tales told in lofty ballads; I wondered who did the cleaning!
'Once it was clear his talents were going nowhere, he started working for the Archmage's agents,' Shiv went on. 'This is his first mission on his own, so he's looking to prove himself on several levels.'
'What are Archmage's agents?' I exclaimed.
Shiv gave me a sideways look. 'Planir doesn't sit in a lofty tower in Hadrumal staring into a scrying bowl to get his information.'
Well, that was a cheery thought. One of the few good things about wizards is that the really dangerous ones stay safely out of the way on their lost island.
'So where do you fit in?' I eyed Shiv suspiciously.
'I am a wizard of the Seaward Hall, an adept of water with the air as my secondary focus. I am a member of the Advisory Circle to the Great Council.'
Well, that was all so much goose-grease as far as I was concerned. 'Which means?'
'It means most wizards around here will bow and scrape and do their best to find out just how close to Planir I really am. Back in Hadrumal, I'm a middling fish in a busy pond.'
The inn where all this nonsense had started came into view.
'You wait outside and I'll settle up and pack.'
Shiv shook his head. 'I'll come in. We'll eat before we head back.'
I glared at him, irritated; when I give my word, I keep it. Who knows, Misaen might really exist and I don't fancy fiery dogs chasing me through the Otherworld when I'm dead. I'm going to have to do enough fast talking to Saedrin as it is. I had wanted to see if Halice had managed to get a letter through and to leave message for her in turn.
'You're going to have to trust me sometime,' I snapped.
'I'm hungry,' Shiv said mildly.
I stalked ahead, feeling a little foolish. The tousled blonde wench behind the bar counter smiled at Shiv, who smirked back and trotted out some line calculated to appeal to that type. I left them to it and found the innkeeper tapping a cask in the cellar.
'I need to move on, so I'll pay my reckoning now. Can I leave the horse at the Running Hound?'
'Fair enough. Three Marks will cover it.'
I opened my belt-pouch and paid the man. This inn was not cheap but the landlord's determined lack of curiosity meant Halice and I had used it more than once before. Look on the bright side, I told myself, if you had got away earlier, you'd have had to leave a bad debt here which would have fouled the nest for the future.
'Have there been any messages for me?'
He shook his head.
'Saedrin's stones!' What had happened to Halice? Apart from anything else, I wanted someone I trusted to know what had happened to me.
'Can I leave a letter, and some money?' We had done this before and I knew the man could be trusted.
'Sure.'
I went to my room and packed swiftly. If it were not for the nagging worry about Halice, I would have been running my mind over all the possibilities in this unexpected turn of events. I wrote Halice a short note full of gambler's slang and private allusions and sealed an Empire Crown into the wax. It was the best I could do but I was still not happy.
'Writing to someone?' Shiv entered without knocking.
'Do I need your permission? Do you want to read it?' Being startled made me shrill.
'That's not necessary.' He flushed and turned on his heel. Interesting, I had managed to shake that irritating self-possession and I had not even been trying.
We ate in silence and rode out, Shiv kicking the cob into a trot.
'The letter was to my partner. We were supposed to meet up at that inn.' If I was stuck with this trio for the present, what with Darni's attitude and the lad's meekness, I figured I would rather have Shiv's friendly face back.
His back relaxed and he reined in until I drew level.
'Partner? Lover?' He raised an eyebrow.
I laughed. 'Strictly business. Her name's Halice.'
'So, does she… er…' he fumbled for words,'dispose of your… um… acquisitions?'
About to take offence, I realised his error. 'No, I'm not a window-cracker except in special circumstances. We play the runes.'
'I'll give you a game sometime.'
'Play with someone who can see right through the bones? Not likely!' I spoke before I could stop myself but Shiv did not take umbrage.
'If you make a living playing the runes and you work with a friend, I don't suppose the bones always fall without a little help,' he observed. 'You won't use your skills, I won't use mine. Deal?'
'Deal.' Actually the prospect was an interesting one.
'So when's your friend due?'
'Overdue already, I'm afraid. That's why I lifted that cursed cup; I was running short with the delay.'
Shiv reined to a halt. 'Would you like to know what has happened to your mate?'
I gaped at him. 'What do you mean?'
'If you've got something belonging to her, or something she's handled regularly, I should be able to find her.' I was relieved to see his smile again. 'It's part of the trail-dog act.'
'Sure.' This I had to see. I dug in my saddlebags and found Halice's preferred set of bones. 'These any good?'
'Fine.' Shiv caught the pouch as I tossed them over and turned his horse off the road.
I followed, consumed with curiosity as he dismounted next to a large puddle. He rummaged in a pocket and uncorked a small bottle of blue liquid. He squatted down and poured a few drops on to the surface of the water. I knelt beside him, wide-eyed as the puddle began to glow with a green light.
Shiv closed his eyes and grasped the runes tight; the same eerie radiance gathered round his fist and I shivered involuntarily. Magelight is what distinguishes the real from the fake and I had only seen it a few times before. I've seen a fair few more claim to be mages and it's remarkable what reasons they come up with to explain why they must suppress the outward signs of their magic. Shiv breathed deeply and the glow of the magic round his hand reached out to the pool.
'Look in the water,' he commanded, opening his eyes.
I obeyed and could not restrain an exclamation. 'That's her, that's Halice.' I stared at the image; it was like looking through thick glass, but she was clearly recognisable. I bit my lip; she was in a bed, eyes closed and hair tangled over her sweaty face. Her right leg was splinted and bandaged from hip to foot; this did not look good. Blood stained the dressings; that leg was a mess and no mistake.
'She's hurt,' Shiv observed unnecessarily. 'Can you tell where she is?'
I peered intently at the blurred image, searching for any clue, but could find none. 'It's an inn of some sort but I can't tell you where.'
Shiv drew some lines in the water, and the reflection shifted and moved. Have you ever been on a wagon looking backward when it's going at the gallop? You know the way everything gets smaller? That's as best as I can describe the way the picture changed. In a few seconds, we were looking at the outside of the inn. I breathed a sigh of relief.
'It's the Green Frog in Middle Reckin, I'd know that buttercross anywhere.' It was a good enough inn and more importantly, the small town had a reliable apothecary. Our associates, the brothers Sorgrad and Sorgren, had introduced us to him when a rather complex enterprise had left me with a gashed arm.
Shiv's brow wrinkled. 'That's on the Selerima road, isn't it? Just past Three Bridges?'
I nodded. 'Why?'
'I know someone who lives just beyond. I can ask him to make sure your friend's taken care of.'
Halice would hardly thank me for handing her over to a wizard but equally I did not think she would be too keen on dying of wound-rot or a fever.
'Could he take her some money and make sure the apothecary treats her? I'm good for it if he'll wait a while.'
Shiv nodded. 'Of course. He has some healing skills himself as well.'
I took a deep breath; this trust had to go both ways after all. I'd seen people crippled for life by breaks like that.
'Can you write to him? A carrier should be heading for Selerima today or tomorrow and could take the letter.'
'No need.' Shiv smiled and raised his arms above his head. Faint blue-green light hovered round his head and followed the breeze off down the road. His eyes were open but vacant; I waved a hand in front of them but he did not even blink, his mind leagues away. This was trust with a vengeance; I could have stuck a knife in his ribs as he stood there. Well, I could have tried, I thought; surely any wizard with a penny weight of sense would have some defence against that kind of thing. At very least, I could be mounted and lost in the trees in an instant. Let him try tracking me then.
There are times when I wish I had done just that. My mother always said curiosity would get me hanged one day. But I was intrigued by this whole set-up now, I wanted to know what was bringing together valuable antiquities, Archmage's agents and scholars from the University. I was not just a gambler; we had friends like Charoleia whose role as 'Lady Alaric the dispossessed noblewoman' had netted us handsome profits in various places. Information and especially advance knowledge of significant happenings could make me rich, and the' Archmage's involvement had to be significant, didn't it? Halice wasn't going to be going anywhere for a good while and I make a rotten nurse, so I didn't see any profit to be made from sitting and holding her hand while her leg knitted. Maybe this gamble would turn a profit after all.