Merchants and Mages (Highmage's Plight Book 2) (22 page)

BOOK: Merchants and Mages (Highmage's Plight Book 2)
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Dustin stared at her, then slowly smiled as Jeo d’Aere said, “So here’s what we’ll need…”

 

The Faeryn Hall was being watched. No swords to be had. That was the order, of course, accompanied by palpable threats. The Mage Guild would brook no further rebellion from the city merchants.

 
They saw through scrying magefire, Journeyman Dustin return to the Hall without a sword and looking dejected.

 
“No swords, Archmage,” the journeyman said, grinning.

 
“Such a shame,” Constandine said.

 

Dustin approached Galt as mage after mage reported their failure. “Master, I… I think there’s a chance yet.”

 
“What?” Galt took Dustin aside and cast a ward of privacy. “Lad, what did Jeo offer?”

 
“Two swords.”

 
“Two? What are they?”

 
“Cathartan, but not Erone.”

 
“Cathartan?”

 
“And the deal they offer is that we make one for them and the other for the Lyai’s commission… and, well, they think we should enchant them at their apartments.”

 
“What?” Galt muttered.

 
“They think it’s safer… safer for us to come visibly begging for his

aid.”

  Galt’s eyes widened, then he chuckled. “Oh, we’ll definitely come begging, and bring offerings to sweeten the deal, we shall. Oh, the offerings we’ll take to make the deal too tempting for him to pass up… Now, you know the talisman we’ll need. Do you think you can steal it without setting off the wards?”

 
“Oh, no, Master, I couldn’t…”

 
“Dustin… I know you stole those books you’ve been reading.”

 
“Don’t tell Master Talik!” he shouted, aghast.

 
“Oh, I won’t, lad… You just use your skills and get that talisman and ward it well. We don’t want to blow our surprise for our supplicant master…or the Mage Guild now, would we?”

 
Dustin grinned, “No, Sir!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Related Swords

Chapter 38

 

 

T
he flames danced. They were not the orange––red of normal fire, but the blue of pure magefire. No smoke rose from these fey flames, which served as a lens to events the journeymen scried from around the Mage Guild’s central pit.

Their attention was now focused that night on the Faeryn mages gathered at their Hall. Masters crossed the Faeryn Hall’s wards. “What?”

 
“I’ve two… three mages leaving the Hall!” a journeyman shouted.

 
“Designating the first as Master Galt!” another cried.

 
“Designate the second as Master Kith!” the first shouted.

 
“Two more Faeryn leaving the Hall!” the third journeyman cried.

 
“I’m having trouble recognizing the third!”

 
An adept hurried to the fire and stared over the journeyman’s shoulder, “That’s Master Daffid, who they rarely let out of the place. He’s older than sin. Journeymen, I want to know what those five are carrying!”

 
“Designate the fourth as Master Haft!”

 
“Another old bird? What’s his expertise?”

 
“Woodworking,” a Master commented. “He’s particularly good with rocking chairs.”

 
“What do they need him for?” another master mused.

 
“Designating the fifth as Master Shide.”

 
“He’s their foremost musical instrument maker,” an old mage said.

 
Another three journeymen came running to the central pit,

followed by Archmage
Constandine. “I want to know where they’re going and what they’re up to!”

 
“Master! I just got a glimpse past the ward on Master Kith’s pouch! He’s carrying jewelry… with enchanted diamonds, rubies, and at least two emeralds.”

 
“What? That must represent a substantial amount of the Faeryn treasury! What are they up to?”

 
Archmage Constandine frowned and said, “Sounds like trade goods… Who’s foolish enough to want to sell them a sword?”

 
“They are heading north toward Merchant Row.”

 
“Ah, my guess is the fool is named Jeo d’Aere,” Constandine said. “And since we know he doesn’t have an appropriate sword handy, it’s likely they are seeking to have him ‘find’ one from among our cowardly friends.” Constandine turned, “Find out who! Now!”

 

Dustin slipped out of the Faeryn Hall with five trusted journeymen. Each wore wards and robes and wyvern–soled sandals. They had bound their hair such that not a single strand might fall to the ground and be taken by the wind, which could easily betray them to scrying.

 
They kept to the shadows and entered the inn through the hidden smugglers passage that connected it to the buildings down the street, one of which was owned by a distant cousin of Master Kith, one of his human kin, and not easy to connect to the Faeryn mages.

 
The innkeeper had been bribed to keep to his rooms with his servants and family. Galt arrived hearing Dustin’s signal that they had entered Jeo’s rooms without problem. The five entered and found the furniture removed from the central room of the apartments. Master Snide was last to enter, he sealed the door with the final ward.

 
Galt smiled at Se’and and Jeo, who was leaning on his walking staff, then turned to his fellow mages, who were staring at the journeymen, “I’m sorry, Masters, but I brought you here under false

pretenses. It’s true I needed you to help acquire Master Jeo’s aid in

securing a sword, but, well, he doesn’t need to find one.”

 
Fri’il entered from the adjoining room bearing two sheathed swords. The masters gasped as they presented them to Galt, who said, “Two fine Cathartan swords, although, I admit not to recognizing the sigils of the House that made them.”

 
“House of Ryff,” Se’and said. “Cousin to House Erone. They are not as elegant as those from Erone’s forges, but they are perfectly balanced and should serve quite nicely.”

 
Galt nodded, “So, gentlemen, we’ve the required eleven mages to work the enchantment for a bane sword. We’ll be doing two this night and we should brook no delay. The Mage Guilders are pathetic, not stupid.”

 
“But we brought nearly a third of the Faeryn treasury.”

 
George smiled, “I’m a tough bargainer.”

 
“And we need a bane sword for the commission, badly, my friends. So, we’re going into partnership; a silent partnership with the good merchant Jeo d’Aere, here. This is an investment,” he said, glaring at George, daring him to argue the point, “and…”

 
“And you’re going to make one of those bane sword’s keyed to me,” Se’and said with a smile.

 
Nine of the mages seemed shocked by the wickedly delighted gleam in the woman’s eye. The exceptions were Dustin and Master Galt, who glanced at those Cathartan swords and suspected that the lady, well, was no lady.

 
Se’and smiled.

 
Staff remained carefully passive, but couldn’t help bleed the thought,
:She’s definitely one dangerous young woman.:

 
“Yeah,” George muttered, then coughed, “Hadn’t you better begin?”

 
Galt asked for the sword not to be keyed, and the mages and journeyman got started.

 

“What’s going on at Jeo’s?!” Constandine shouted.

 
Guild mages and journeymen were growing more frustrated, “The inn’s got new wards!”

 
“No,” a Master said, “those are really old wards, wasn’t there a Llewellyn Embassy there, what two hundred years ago or so?”

 
“You think they reactivated centuries old wards?” Constandine cried.

 
“They must have.”

 
“What are they up to?” Constandine muttered.

 
“It must be quite the negotiation.”

 
“Then where does Jeo intend to get a sword? Has anyone found out?!” Constandine shouted. That question was greeted by silence. “Find out, now!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Too Good a Trick

Chapter 39

 

 

 

E
leven mages began the forms, a complex dance, that redrew the rules that humans recognized as reality. They drew glowing runes in the very air before them. Several seemed to step up off the ground as if upon steps, then inverted and wrote runes on the ceiling. The journeymen swayed turning the runes they had drawn and twisting them into different shapes.

 
George, Se’and, Fri’il, and Raven had been ushered into the next room and told not to disturb them. “Investment, Je’orj?” Se’and asked.

 
“Hey, you’re the one who told Dustin you wanted cash thrown into the deal,” George said, smiling.

 
“But an investment?”

 
“I’m playing the capitalist, why not an investment? Or do you object to my taking on a silent partner?”

 
“We don’t need them.”

 
George laughed, “I need all the friends I can get.”

 
“You’ve family, you don’t need…” Se’and said.

 
“With family like this, you don’t need enemies,” George replied, then held up his hands at her hurt look. “Okay, so next time I pass out, don’t take advantage.”

 
Fri’il glanced at Se’and and said, “I didn’t…”

 
“Not from your perspective, no. But where I come from, that’s called taking advantage – and it’s not right.”

 
Se’and glared at him, “We’ve a House to build. Make it easier and perhaps we won’t seek moments of ‘advantage,’ as you call it.”

 
Shaking her head, Fri’il said, “But I thought you…”

 
George raised his hands again, “I’m only human. Play fair, and I’ll… I’ll try to play fair, too.”

 
“More than try, Je’orj,” Se’and said.

 
Nodding, George capitulated. “As long as you understand, I still don’t see

us as,” he lowered his voice, “married.”

  Se’and smiled, “Well, that’s what we’re working on, now, aren’t we?”

 
Fri’il nodded.

 
Raven turned away and muttered, “Humans.”

 

“What are they doing in there? How long can it take to negotiate?” the Archmage wondered. “They are taking long enough to enchant a… a bane sword. Fools, the merchant had a sword we didn’t know about! Get down there and wreck their enchantment! Move! Move!”

 
The Guild mages and journeymen fled before the Archmage’s wrath. They left him to the magefire’s flames. He glanced over his shoulder once to make sure he was alone, then stared into the fire and muttered the spell. The flames writhed and he focused on scrying on the inn.

 
“You’ll not enchant another sword!” he vowed.

 

:George,:
Staff mentally whispered.

 
“What are you picking up?”

 
:Someone’s knocking on the wards.:

 
“We can’t reveal ourselves,” George muttered.

 
:Perhaps we can disguise what we’re doing?:

 
“What are you thinking?”

 
:We focus and have the city wards help us.:

 
“That’ll be a prime functional,” he muttered as Se’and and Fri’il heard their lord talking to himself again, something they had learned to pay close attention to.

 
:Yes, but we won’t be acting like a beacon. Niota’s warding node woke, so why not this city’s?:
Staff suggested.

 
George glanced away from his staff. “Ladies, I’m going to do something dangerous. Raven, let no one enter.”

 
She pulled off her sandals, then livery, grinning. She hated clothes with a passion, so she changed to beast form. Fri’il in the meantime, drew her bane sword and Se’and set out her throwing daggers.

 
Things tended to happen fast when Lord Je’orj went into human mage mode.

 
George said, “Promise me when this is over, no taking advantage!”

 
The Cathartans nodded, then said in unison, “Of course not, Milord.”

 
He grimaced and muttered to the computer staff taking it in both hands, “Let’s do this. Level one rapport.”

 
“Engaging,” staff said through George’s voice. “Commencing probe.”

 

George and staff scanned straight down, reaching out for the node that lay beneath the city of Lyai.

 
The node had been long quiescent. Those that knew how to tap it were long gone; however, the enchantments that channeled power to it continued to flow. The Empire lay upon a network of nodes, and the Demonlord had millennia to see that the Great Houses fell one by one, and with them, the knowledge of nodes and High Mageries. Untapped, the node was becoming a growing danger, but the node like many of its siblings throughout the Empire existed in the forever dream and had no one to warn.

 
The probe touched the fringes of the node.
Link
to the wards of the inn
, George thought.

 
Staff created the pathway and energy flowed upward. It reached the wards and filled them, reigniting a spell left by one who had secretly practiced the old ways.

 
Within the wards, the Faeryn continued their enchantment, unaware of any change to their environs –– nor were George and his companions or the innkeeper and his staff, paid to stay in their rooms, or the smattering of guests who had retired early for the night.

 

The Guild mages burst into the inn and raced upstairs. They cast a spell and knocked down the merchant’s door and…

 
“Where are they?”

 
“They’ve tricked us!”

 
“Find the innkeeper!”

 
Journeymen raced back downstairs, but no one could be found.

 

The blue scrying magefire writhed and the Archmage raged, “Find them! Find them!”

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