“Look about you,” the robed spell-binder said with no small amount of pride. His gesture swept the little room, a place draped with strange tapestries and cluttered with a mass of magical paraphernalia. On floor, walls, and ceiling were dozens if not hundreds of enameled and engraved runes, symbols, and occult charms.

“Since you left the waters of the Nyr Dyv and came southward,” the mage continued, “I have used my powers to mask you. No one knows your whereabouts. No force can manage to scry this chamber. Given time, some dweomer great enough to unveil your presence could be brought up, no doubt. But we shall not give… them… that time, shall we?” he finished, trying to soften his expression as he peered into the woman’s eyes.

Her face now showed grief as she turned her thoughts to what was about to happen. She glared accusingly at the robed mage but said nothing. Her husband saw this and spoke in her stead. “No, my old comrade, we will not linger here so as to allow our foes to find us.”

“My good apprentice will see that you two are safely away without so much as a stir,” Wanno said with relief. “Just place the infant within that chest,” he added, “and then-”

“No!”

“Yes, love,” the dark man said to his woman. “No need for instant compliance, though. Bid adieu to our son for both of us while Wanno and I discuss a few small matters yet to be set straight. I will return in a few minutes. Then we will be off.” She looked at him, tears rolling down her pale cheeks.

“Be strong,” he continued, doing his best to console her while keeping a rein on his own sad feelings. “It is a separation, merely a parting for a little time. He will be back with us ere his first year’s natal day is celebrated.”

As the robed spell-binder and the black-clad man went through an archway into an adjoining room, the woman’s sobs were still audible. “I wonder If my own mother cried thus when I was bound to the ’craeft at birth.” Wanno’s words were not meant as a question, but voiced as a detached speculation. “No matter… What do you wish to say?”

“What news have you of the ones who sought our downfall?”

Wanno shrugged. “Little, but I can say that it seems that none of the clans now actively work against you, prince.”

“And can the same be said of my grandfather?”

“Who can speak with certainty of that one? Still, even though he never supported you, neither did he encourage your… noble cousins in their efforts to bring you low,” the mage said slowly. “If I had to hazard a supposition, I would tell you that his hand has been more with than against you, prince. It is surprising to me that the six greater clans have not been more active against you and the heir,” Wanno added, slowly stroking his wispy chin whiskers.

The dark-garbed man pondered the mage’s pronouncements for a moment. Then he smiled suddenly. “The luck of the seventh, perhaps. Those evil ones who have combined cannot long remain in union, and when they are sundered then it will be safe for us to reclaim our son. I charge you again-keep him safe, Wanno. We will be back for him soon. Your reward will be great indeed on that happy day. Fail, and I pledge to you that you will be cursed here and in all other realms too, as long as my kind live and breathe!”

“That I have always understood and accepted,” the strange mage said with an undertone of rebuke evident In his voice. “Still, I understand your concern, I think, although parent I am not nor will be. Tell your lady that he will be kept safe and secure, given all I have power to provide, so that upon your return the heir will be strengthened and ready for whatever might come.”

“You speak as if the time will be years, not weeks or months!”

“Who can say? Not I, prince. Know you well that I have tried to pierce the future, but there are veils upon veils which surround you three. Not even I could lift more than a few of these shrouding layers. The time did seem long, though,” Wanno added in a conciliatory tone, not wanting to offend this man but also not wanting to leave him with a false Impression of what lay ahead.

The dark man let this last remark pass uncontested, then seemed to mellow as he gave the spellbinder a hearty clap upon his thin, narrow shoulder. “You have always been a friend, old one, even in this city of hawks and double-dealers.”

Wanno looked somberly at the shorter man. “City of hawks? Indeed. Yet, it is a place which has suited you and yours for some time, prince. Never have rules and regulations been meat and drink to the Lord of-”

“True enough,” said the man, his face and voice imbued with rising anxiety. “Now, let us speak no further, for I mistrust even the strong wards you have used to hedge this sanctuary of yours, Wanno. I am uneasy, full of foreboding.”

“What father would not be? Far and fast you and your lady must travel now. This is your one chance-and the only hope for the heir, too.”

“What if we… do not return?”

The mage did not flinch at this; as always, he was ready with an answer. “I will tell him of his parents, his heritage, and his duty. I will equip him, aid him. in whatever manner I can.”

The black-garbed man pulled a ring from his finger, then took a small wooden box from a pouch that hung at his belt and handed both objects to the mage. “Forge a chain for this ring, Wanno, so that he might wear it round his neck when he is old enough to walk. Keep this box and what it holds safe for him so that he may have it at the right time.”

“The ring I recognize. But what of the coffer?”

“A dweomered container given to me by mine own sire, Wanno. It appears normal and empty when first opened, but when the magical false bottom is discovered… inside are likenesses of my parents, and my lady and I too, plus a little scroll telling of who and what we are-his heritage and more, it seems. Nine black sapphires are inside as well, beneath a second secret panel. They are said to have some greater significance, but in here they serve simply as a store of wealth in case of dire need.”

An odd smile played briefly over Wanno’s face. “Considering the amount of gold you have managed to get into my possession over the last few weeks, old friend, I somehow doubt your son will lack for resources.”

“As it should be,” said the man solemnly. “Yet material wealth is not as important as physical health… and both of these are insignificant compared to wellness of the spirit. So long as my son’s spirit is unbroken, I have a feeling that health and wealth will be his in due course. Keep his body safe from harm, Wanno-but beyond that, make his spirit strong so that he may conquer danger when he must face it.”

In this short speech, the infant’s father sounded very much as if he knew he would not be coming back. Wanno, grasping the man’s elbow to lead him back into the main chamber, said nothing to discourage this impression.

Gone at last! Wanno breathed a sigh and set about his work. He liked the prince as well as he liked anyone-indeed, more than most. And his lady was a fine woman, as females went. Why, then, had he been so ill at ease when they were here? And why was he now so relieved to have them away?

Could it be simply the responsibility of seeing to the young lordling, the prince’s infant son? No. That part was easy. Although he had never been a parent, Wanno had most of the skills and resources he would need for the job, and could easily afford to procure those he did not possess.

Perhaps it was the danger. Certainly there was much at hazard in this business. But Wanno had been involved in perilous undertakings before, and had never felt quite like this.

Finally, the mage decided that it was simply a matter of his not liking any company very much, not even that of other dweomercraefters. For a moment, he absently wondered if he was deluding himself by allowing himself to come to this conclusion. Then Wanno gathered up the sleeping bundle that was the little prince and headed for his private chamber. As he entered the room, a figure who had been seated on a stool near the door rose to greet him.