Laromendis nodded; there would be no dungeon or cage in the courtyard for him; he would be at the battlements sending demons back to whatever hell they came from. ‘Very well, my lord. I wish to serve in whatever way you judge right.’
The Regent Lord stepped around a wagon and through the magic curtain. Keeping his features still, the magic user followed his ruler, satisfied that his plan was almost underway. He knew he had to steal one minute alone with his brother, no more, and then he could gladly give his life to save the People. But he prayed to an ancient goddess that his sacrifice wouldn’t be necessary, for to truly safeguard their future, his particular arts, those of his brother and of many others who were considered less than elven by the Regent Lord, would be needed.
And to do that, changes needed to be instituted, and quickly.
And that required a little treason.
He stepped through the portal and vanished.
CHAPTER SIX - Premonition
Pug cast his spell.
The assembled students watched in rapt attention as a column of energy rose above the master sorcerer, speeding upwards unseen. They could still sense the energy, and some, more attuned to the magic arts than others, could almost feel it radiating on their skin. He was teaching them a basic skill, one usually left to those whose time was less valuable to the Conclave of Shadows, but Pug felt the need to be in the classroom from time to time. The lesson was a simple one: how to feel the presence of magic, and locate it when it was employed nearby. Over the years he had been astonished to discover that many magicians and magical clerics didn’t realize a fireball had been cast until the flames had singed their hair.
Young men and women from many nations, and a few from alien worlds, had gathered here to study under the tutelage of the greatest practitioner of the arcane arts on Midkemia. Today’s lesson was on perception and reaction to changes in magic, and the first step was mastering the ability to recognize when magic was being deployed. The skill might seem rudimentary to most of the students, but the three people who observed the lesson from a short distance away knew better: it was the first step in learning how to react to hostile magic; instant recognition of changing magic often kept a magician alive.
Magnus turned to his brother and mother and said, ‘He seems to be fine.’
Miranda shook her head. ‘Seems is the operative word. It’s another bout of melancholia.’
‘Nakor?’ asked Caleb.
Miranda nodded, ‘I don’t know; maybe. It’s been almost ten years, and he hides it well, but those black moods come upon him still.’
Caleb, Pug and Miranda’s younger son, said, ‘Marie notices it, too.’ His wife was a perceptive woman and in the ten years since she had arrived on Sorcerer’s Island, had become something of the mistress of the household, a position Miranda was more than happy to cede to her, as she had her magical studies to conduct.
Magnus said, ‘I was there, and no one could have done more than Father did. Nakor chose his fate.’ Quietly, he added, ‘As much as any of us can choose.’
Miranda’s dark eyes showed a mixture of distress for her husband’s pain, and irritation, an expression both sons knew well. A tender-hearted woman at times, but she could also be as impatient as a child.
‘Nakor?’ asked Caleb again.
‘He misses him,’ agreed Miranda. ‘More than he’d like anyone to know. That bandy-legged little vagabond had a unique mind and even when I was furious with him he could make me laugh.’ She paused and turned away, motioning for her sons to follow her down the hill and back towards the main villa. ‘During the ten years since his death, your father has uttered Nakor’s name once or twice a month. But he has mentioned him half a dozen times in the last week. Something is on his mind, something new and troubling.’
Villa Beata, ‘the beautiful home’, had grown over the years. The large square house still commanded the heart of the vale in which it nestled, but along the ridge, other buildings had been constructed, providing housing and study space for the students whom Pug had recruited. Miranda, Caleb and Magnus made their way down a long winding path towards what had once been the perimeter garden on the original property; it was now flanked on the north and south by barracks-like student housing.
Magnus said, if Father is anticipating some new trouble, he’s not mentioned it to me or anyone else, as far as I can tell.’
Caleb said, ‘I’ve seen or heard nothing to suggest that our present tranquillity is in peril.’