The party began out of Cintar under a drab sky, leaving behind the noisy streets and bustling markets of the greatest city in the known world. The hundred horses of Captain Orrell’s guard went ahead with the said captaininthe lead, with Master Celios and Grand Master Tudor on either side. The enigmatic Sir Ferse, as always, was shadowing Celios, riding immediately behind the disturbed magician.
Samuel and the Erics were left to mingle amongst the wagons at the rear of the column. The male Koians seemed comfortable on horseback, while the ladies rode upon a light-hooded carriage, with their costumed crone peeking out from beneath the retractable cover. The other wagons were far less luxurious and only served to carry their supplies for the journey, as well as items required by the fortress. Samuel had been alarmed to learn that one whole wagon was utilised only for clothes and paraphernalia belonging to the Koian god-woman. It seemed it was impossible for her to exist without her many changes of appearance. There was some extravagant and complicatedcostumeroutine that she followed, and a daily set of rituals that often had them halting while she stepped down and scratched at the dirt, or which had her throwing a handful of feathers into the air while she screeched aloud. All this was supposed to allow the universe to continue existing, but it mostly served to annoy Samuel. He could scarcely believe Captain Orrell was entertaining such nonsense, but the man waited patiently as he had been instructed to do.
Eric kept his distance and rode beside the Koian men, chatting to them, and that suited Samuel fine for the moment. Despite Anthem’s suggestion to let ‘bygones be bygones’, he was not ready to forgive his friend quite yet.
‘They are nothing but trouble,’ Samuel said, eyeing the foreigners bleakly.
Goodfellow looked back at the bouncing vehicle with concern. ‘I agree. It seems a strange arrangement.’
‘Master Celios seems confident. We can only hope his visions are wellfounded and don’t waste all our time.’
‘Master Celios is beginning to worry me,’ Goodfellow admitted. ‘His behaviour is becoming more and more erratic. I keep thinking back to Master Sebastian, the magician who went mad and lost his magic.’
‘Master Celios’ magic is not waning yet and,besides, Sebastian had been working with black magic for some time. The summoning of the Ti’luk creature merely pushed him over the edge.’
Goodfellow took another glance up towards the balding seer. ‘But can we trust a man on the edge of madness?’
Samuel was not sure himself, but answered more to reassure his friend. ‘Madness is the spark of greatness, so they say. I suppose we shall see if that is the case with Master Celios or not. For the moment, we are in his hands. Grand Master Anthem trusts his visions, so that is enough for me.’
The road was curving and Samuel could see Captain Orrell far ahead leading their column, with the two black-cloaked magicians beside him. Sir Ferse was riding upright in his saddle, with a stiff posture that seemed almost regal. His aura spoke of nothing unusual-he was just a man-but something about him was eerily familiarto Samuel.
They followed the busy highway through the fields and pastures that surrounded Cintar, away from the impregnable city walls and towards the coastal hills. Samuel could not help but pause a moment once they reached the crest of the hill and take one last look at the city. He remembered well coming down this same road many years ago when Tulan Goodwin had first brought him to try his luck as a magician. He wondered if he would ever see his friend again, for Tulan had been banished to his native Garteny for his role in the assassination of the Emperor. The world was certainly much more complicated than Samuel had first imagined.
Taking one last glance at the vista, Samuel took a great breath. The Bardlebrook river, stretching down from the hills; the satellite town of Northbank, sitting just on the river’s edge; the great walled city of Cintar itself, covering the land like a testament to the industriousness of man; the enormous,curving sea beyond them all, which made him feel tiny every time he gazed at it-these things seemed part of him now and he could not help feeling that this time, in leaving them, he was leaving some part of himself behind.
‘No need to be nostalgic,’ Goodfellow said, still waiting just nearby. ‘We’ll be home soon enough. I doubt little will change while we’re away.’
Samuel pulled the reins sideways and his mount brought him around to face his friend. ‘The city may not change, but we might.’
The sandy-haired magician laughed good-heartedly. ‘Now you’re just being sentimental. What kind of magician are you? Come on. The others are getting away from us. We’ve a long way to go.’
Samuel spent most of his timeduring the journeychatting with Goodfellow and the good-natured Captain Orrell, along with his reliable second-in-command, Lieutenant Valiant. He had been pleasantly surprised to find that the pair was leading their adventure, and that Orrell was now heldinsuch high regard within the Royal Guard. Days were spentmovingat a quick pace and the light wagons did a good job of keeping up although,by nightfall, they had generally fallen a good way behind and only caught up while everyone else was already into their dinners.
In the heart of Turia, there were plenty of major towns and citieswhere they couldlodge, such as Grendin and Callaisia, and the vast,lake-hugging settlement of Seven Oaks. Captain Orrell and his menusuallyspent the nightsin the local barracks,and they were happy enough with that, while the magicians and their Koian guests found their way to the local Order innsand slept there in relative luxury.
Old Tudor sent Samuel to check on the Koians’ needs each night, and he did so with a minimum of interest. They would only request water or towels or fresh bedding and it seemed pointless to have Samuel running about like a common servant. They tried to goad him into conversing with them, but stopped their attempts after he declined quite tersely. Soon after, Tudor gave up sending him.
At first light, they would all meet up again on the outskirts of the town and head off again. Orrell’s men took care of their horses and they were given different mounts each day, so Samuel had no time to bond with Brown Eric and did not bother to name any of the horses after that. There seemed little point.
They managed to cover a decent amount of ground each day, but it was eternally frustrating getting Master Celios and Sir Ferse tobeready on time. More than once the two of them could be heard arguing at the top of their voices. Even Grand Master Tudor had to give Celios stern words after he had caused them to makeCaptain Orrell late for the third day in a row, but the words seemed ineffectual on the distracted old Master. Several times,they questioned Celios if they should not be moving along faster, but he would only say that they were travelling according to plan and there was nothing to worry about. Still, Samuel could not help but feel they would do much better to leave the Koians and the supplies behind and ride for Ghant with all haste. Every day they dragged their feet was another day the Empress was slipping further away from them.
Eric spent the days riding alongside the Koians and it only irked Samuel even further that his friend seemed to be getting along with them so well, chatting and laughing all the way. It seemedthatthe three younger Koian men- at least a decade or two older than Samuel-came from the same small region of Koia and they spoke together in their own incomprehensible tongue. Only the one called Horse spoke Old Tongue and he acted as translator between Canyon and the other two. It had surprised Samuel when he learned that the Koians were culturally diverse, but then he supposed every continent would be similar in some respects. Even Turia still had pockets of differentiation, despite the Empire’s best efforts to make the people homogeneous in every way.
‘Don’t worry, he won’t give away any of our secrets,’ Grand Master Tudor said, noticing Samuel’s concerned looks. ‘I’ve already spoken to him about what he says and what he does. He is a grown man and he knows better than to discuss Order secrets with common folk.’
‘Can we trust them, Grand Master? They seem so strange to me. We know nothing about them or where they really come from. Everything they told us could be a lie.’
‘Samuel, I would have thought that all your experiences as anOutlander in Turia would have taught you better. Did you learn nothing from all your years in Cintar? It’s our nature to be wary of all things that challenge the expected but,as magicians, that is our main function. No, I don’t think there is anything amiss about them-at least, not yet. Yes, they do look strange and they have strange ways, but we cannot let that cloud our judgement. I’m only disappointed that you have decided to keep yourself aloof from them. They are people, the same as weare, and Master Celios has never been wrong. I will not start doubting him now. We must trust him, and trust the faith the Council have invested in him. These people, thrown upon our shores, will have some role to play in the coming days and we can only thank fate that we have the foresight of Master Celios to prepare us for such.’
