There was one other person in the room, an ancient crone in a black silk shawl, her skin wrinkled and limbs like sticks.
"And this is Elder Shal Hamsa. She still remembers the old ways. She is here to learn from you, and perhaps to teach you as well."
"It is a pleasure, Elder," Ella said.
The woman looked up. Her eyes were a piercing blue. "You are young, to be loremistress to an entire house."
Ella swallowed. "Yes, I am."
She felt the woman’s piercing eyes on her for a moment. Ilathor simply watched in interest, sipping some kind of hot drink.
"You are from the north?"
"From Altura."
"Ah. The enchanters.’
"Yes."
The woman grunted and turned back to the Prince.
He spoke, "Hermen was just catching us up with the latest events around the world. Merralya is much in turmoil of late. You were saying, Hermen?"
The man spoke with a guttural voice. "The Petryans have assembled a great army of soldiers and elementalists. They have started marching for Wondhip Pass. They aim to attack Altura from the south."
The Prince watched Ella. She struggled to remain impassive. She thought of the High Enchantress and her perfect composure. It settled her.
Hermen continued, "The Alturans and Halrana were crushed at Ralanast. Most of their leaders are dead. I have heard the Alturans have only a score of bladesingers left."
Miro! Ella breathed in and out, slowly and evenly.
"What comes next?" asked Ilathor.
"Well, if the enchanters don’t surrender, my guess is they will pull back to Altura. Halaran is lost, that much is clear. Refugees are pouring out, crossing the Sarsen into Altura, countless numbers of them. They will be lucky to make it out before the Black Army catches up with them."
Ella listened in horror. She fought to keep her face carefully smooth. The Prince looked at her again, and then looked back to Hermen.
"What do you make of this Black Army?" Ilathor probed.
"I have heard it is the biggest army the world has ever seen. Four houses, united. Who would have ever thought to see it?"
"Five, with the elementalists — Raj Tingara, Raj Torakon, Raj Loua Louna, Raj Vezna and Raj Petrya. I cannot believe it myself. Nothing good can come of it."
"I agree," said Hermen. "Nothing stops this army. Independent cities like Castlemere, we will be next."
"I will think on it," the Prince frowned.
"This gathering of the tribes, when is it?"
"In six days, on the full moon."
"You will never unite them," Hermen said. "Too many long hatreds. Old habits are hard to break."
Ella thought the Prince might react badly, but he merely smiled. "We shall see, my friend. We shall see."
~
PRINCE Ilathor watched as Ella worked with Elder Shal Hamsa throughout the day, and long into the night.
The trader had long gone. Before he left, the Prince had asked Ella and the Elder for a quick demonstration for the trader.
Ella thought long and hard, before creating the illusion of a pile of gold coins sprawling on the low table. Hermen had laughed with pleasure, attempting to scoop them up but finding his fingers touching only air.
With interest Ella had watched as the Elder removed the small statue of a horse from a pocket.
"I know only a few tricks, taught to me by my mother. There are few of us left now who know the old ways. This is one of my tricks."
She spoke the activation sequence, and the horse began to glow with spidery silver lines. Instantly a full-sized horse appeared in the open space of the tent, its chest heaving, nostrils widening with each breath.
Ella could see how it was constructed. It was a simple but effective creation — she could already see how it could be improved. For one thing the eyes were merely pinpricks of light, and the coat was a dull grey.
"Excellent," Prince Ilathor had said.
Ella now rubbed at her eyes. She had been working for hours. The old woman was surprisingly quick and determined. Ella had always had an excellent memory for the runes, and she could now work without referencing the Lexicon for all but the most complex creations. Most of her time was actually spent in showing the Elder how to use the Lexicon — it required a framework of lore to even begin.
Ella found she had a much greater knowledge than the Elder, but that the Elder knew some useful tricks for short-cutting the runes, something Ella had never thought of doing before. By connecting simple structures the end result was less detailed but also easier to create and required less essence. She filed it away in her memory.
The work temporarily took her away from thinking about Altura, but whenever she paused she again pictured Miro or Amber. She tried to remember them smiling, but their faces kept becoming washed with blood.