“So do you consider them a threat or not?” Planir looked puzzled. “You just said there’d been no sign for over a year. Perhaps you should think through whatever your argument is before we discuss this further?”

Shiv coloured but didn’t say anything.

“Kellarin has mercenaries and magic of its own, don’t forget that.” Planir smiled thinly. “In any case, the Tormalin Emperor and I have come to, shall we say, an agreement over Kellarin. He’ll allow the colony its independence as long as Hadrumal does the same.”

Usara looked perplexed. “I don’t see the two of us threatening that.”

“Your modesty does you credit, ’Sar.” Planir’s tone warmed a trifle. “Consider the reputation you have in Toremal as the mage who drove the Elietimm out of the mountains all but single-handed last year. Of course, such power and valour was only to be expected from one of the wizards who rediscovered the lost land of Kellarin the summer before that, fighting with mighty mages like the admirable Shiv to defend its people, even to the death of such worthies as Viltred.”

“I hardly think sarcasm is called for,” said Shiv curtly.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to mock.” Planir looked tired despite the early hour. “I appreciate you have an interest in Kellarin and close ties to people there but you can keep your weather eye on them from here.”

He glanced at Shiv who tried and failed to look innocent. “Don’t tell me you’ve not been scrying for them because I won’t believe you. No, don’t worry about it. Scry all you want as far as I’m concerned and if trouble does come floating down from the Ice Islands, then you can give Kellarin all the assistance you want. The Emperor will be too glad of it to quibble and the first to cheer Elietimm ships burnt to the waterline with magical fire or drowned like rats in a barrel with a conjured storm.”

“I appreciate your confidence but we’ve no great record of success against the Elietimm enchanters,” said Shiv bitterly.

“Then wouldn’t you be safer here?” queried Planir. “You’re contradicting yourself again, Shiv.”

“We’re scarcely any further forward in understanding aetheric magic.” Usara’s frustration was evident. “I need to work with those adept in Kellarin if I’m to make any sense of the little we’ve learned over the winter, if I’m ever to see how Artifice relates to wizardry. We might even see how the two magics might work together rather than stifling each other.”

“A hope I hold before the Council each and every time some sceptic calls the value of your studies into question.” Planir raised a quizzical brow. “Surely you’ll make better progress surrounded by twenty generations of learning documented in Hadrumal’s libraries than struggling to fit in your studies around keeping ships away from dangerous currents and tracking lodes of ore for the colony?”

“I need to discuss my theories with the Demoiselle Guinalle,” Usara insisted. “She’s the leading adept, after all.”

“Ah yes, Guinalle.” Planir slowly inclined his head. “But what about Aritane, ’Sar? She can’t go back to her people in the mountains. These Sheltya who hold their lore, they’ll assume—and rightly—that’s she’s told you all she knows about their ancient aetheric magic. You told me that would mean death for her if the Sheltya ever caught her.”

“She’s safe enough in Hadrumal,” said Shiv with a dismissive shrug.

Planir kept his stern gaze fixed on Usara. “You’ve complained to me often enough about the scant respect she’s shown, ’Sar. You hear all the arguments that Artifice is no more than some second-rate magic unworthy of Hadrumal’s notice. You’re going to leave Aritane to face all that alone?”

“Then she can come to Kellarin with us.” Usara was looking exasperated now.

“You’ve managed to persuade her?” Planir was astonished.

“I understood she sees herself as exiled to Hadrumal for life. It’s the only place where she can stay hidden from Sheltya working Artifice to hunt her down, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure Guinalle could protect her in Kellarin,” said Usara stiffly but his face belied his words.

“You don’t think her race’s ancient kinship with the Elietimm will make her even less welcome than she is here, among colonists who suffered so dreadfully at their hands?” Planir hazarded. He frowned. “And of course, if Elietimm enchanters do seek a new target for their hatred as you suggest, Shiv, and were to attack Hadrumal for instance, then we’ll find ourselves with both Guinalle and Aritane, the only two with any real knowledge of such magic and more crucially how to counter it on the far side of the ocean.”

“Why are you making so many difficulties, Archmage?” Shiv demanded bluntly.

“Why haven’t you two thought through all the consequences of your actions?” snapped Planir. “Haven’t I taught you better than this? Is this notion entirely your own? Did someone else suggest it? Troanna for instance?”

“I don’t answer to Troanna,” Shiv replied in the same breath as Usara’s protest.

“I’m your pupil, Planir, no one else’s.”

“Then why is this plan leaving you so blinkered to wider considerations?” Planir said abruptly. “Tell me ’Sar, is your desire to see Guinalle entirely academic? You’ve set aside your romantic inclination for the lady?”

“No, but that doesn’t interfere with my duty to Hadrumal.” Usara coloured furiously beneath his beard. “No more than you’re hampered by your attachment to Larissa.”

“I think we’d better talk about this some other time,” Shiv said hastily. He caught Usara by the sleeve. “As you say, Archmage, there are other aspects to this that we’d better consider more fully”

He forced Usara through the door and closed it quickly as the sandy-haired wizard shook himself free with visible annoyance. They descended the stairs in mute irritation.

“What was that all about?” Usara burst out as they reached the courtyard. “I know he’s been short-tempered lately but that was just impossible!”

“Maybe we just picked the wrong moment,” Shiv said dubiously. “He looked dog-tired. What do you suppose is keeping him burning the midnight candles? Larissa?”

Usara shook his head. “She’s spending a lot less time with him. I hear the gossip is upsetting her.”

“What did she expect, letting Planir charm her into his bed?” There was little sympathy in Shiv’s response. “She’s his apprentice.”

“He’s genuinely fond of her,” Usara insisted.

“But she’s a diversion from his cares, not someone he’d share them with. He must miss Otrick.” Shiv’s voice was sad as he trod on the patterned shadow cast by a leaded casement now opened to the morning air.

“We all do,” Usara sighed. “And who’s Planir got to talk to, now the old pirate’s dead?”

“Pered doesn’t think Planir’s taken time to grieve for Otrick properly,” Shiv observed. He grimaced. “I win the washing up till next market day. Pered bet me Planir wouldn’t just give us leave to go.”

Usara looked back at the Archmage’s lofty window. “Perhaps we should have told him the whole plan.” His words tailed off into uncertainty.

“We agreed we’d take it one step at a time,” Shiv said firmly. “Anyway, who do you suppose is coming to see him first thing before breakfast? Maybe that’s why he was in such a contrary mood.”

They passed through the gateway and fell silent as a couple of yawning apprentices crossed their path. Usara led the way out to the less exalted buildings of the high road where Hadrumal’s tradespeople were setting about the more mundane occupations of their day.

“What do you say to some bread and cheese?” Shiv nodded towards a small shop whose solid shutters were now let down to form a counter stacked with flagons of water and wine and baskets piled high with rolls fresh from some nearby bakery.

“It wouldn’t hurt to see who came and went for a chime or so,” agreed Usara.