‘Please forgive me, Grand Master Tudor, but what if Master Celios and the rest are all mistaken?’
The old magician gave Samuel a knowing wink. ‘Everything is possible, young Samuel. Assume the best, but be prepared for the worst. I think that is perhaps the best advice for this situation.’
The first couple of weeks passed quickly and Samuel had done a fine job of avoiding the Koians and their croaking,many-costumed crone. He was quite surprised when one of the Koian men, the ambassador called Canyon sidled up to him as they were waiting atop their mounts-Captain Orrell had drawn the column to a halt as he discussed their best route with Lieutenant Valiant-and startled Samuel from his thoughts.
‘We haven’t had much opportunity to speak, Magician,’ he said, granting Samuel his most reassuring expression. ‘You seem to be avoiding us. I hope we haven’t offended you.’
The man’s eyes were barely slits in his face; his nose was barely a nub. His Old Tongue waspunctuatedwith unusual pronunciation that had Samuel struggling to understand the context of his words.
‘You haven’t offended me. I am only quiet with my thoughts. We magicians are solitary folk.’
The Koian seemed to accept that. ‘So it is. If you feel the need to speak your thoughts, I am happy to talk with you. This road is long and, despite the beauties of your land, we also find ourselves getting bored as one valley leads to the next. Some conversation would ease this tiresome journey.’
‘Perhaps.’
The Koian looked back to his party, where Eric was laughing merrily with the three other men. ‘Your friend is not as solitary as you. I perceive that you are not on such good terms. It is unfortunate.’
‘I thought your people didn’t tolerate magicians?’
‘This is your country. We are guests here. We will not judge your choices.’
‘I do remember you mentioning “putting to death”.’
‘We are not a savage people, Samuel. Magic is not tolerated in my homelandfor good reason. Our history was marred by magicians seeking to further their own interestsat the expense of society. TheRoyalFamily had them outlawed. I understand something similar almost happened here only recently,’ he added with a knowing smile. Eric had obviously told him of the time when the Emperor had tried to put all the renegade magicians of the city to death.
‘Almost. Luckily, it did not,’ Samuel told him with a steady tone.
Ambassador Canyon seemed to sense he would have no more productive conversation from Samuel and dropped back to rejoin his party. ‘Very well. I hope to speak with you soon,’ were his parting words.
The party had travelled long and were far from Cintar and central Turia. They had left the highways and were now crossing overland to make the best time. The trip had been uneventful and boring, and it came as good news when they heard they did not have far to go. Samuel had said few words to Eric and spoken only with the Koians when necessary. He spent most of his timewith Goodfellow throughout the course of each day and Tudor and Captain Orrell besides, but he had no real wish to speak to Master Celios or his aloof companion.
Canyon attempted to converse with Samuel on several instances and, on noticingthe rebuffs Samuel gave him, old Tudor suggested that Samuel should return the attempt to befriend them. Samuel, however, was stubbornly upset by Eric and, by association, the Koians with whom Eric was getting on so well. Sighing once more, Samuel checked that the Argum Stone was sitting tightly in his pocket and began guessing how long it would take them to reach the next rest stop.
After a few more nights,they stopped in a logged clearing. The Koian women were settled into one large tent together and they had requested water and clean cloths so they could wash themselves. They could be heard talking softly inside, whispering and giggling in their womanish ways. There was no sound of the hag’s ear-piercing voice and,for that, Samuel was thankful.
Orrell’s men were setting up tents and Samuel took the opportunity to speak to Sir Ferse, who was standing idlybywhile the others busiedthemselvesaround him.Heseemedintrigued by the nature of their individual tasks. Samuelhad avoided the man the entire time, but now, with little else to do, he decided to accept old Tudor’s request to be more civilto his companions. He was not in the mood to force a conversation with the Koians, so he thought the eccentric attendant might be a good start.
‘Sir Ferse,’ greeted Samuel.
A well-practised smile flashed onto the moustached man’s face. It was the look of an experienced salesman or merchant, executed with precision and designed to put the recipient at ease, and Samuel already found the man to be frustratingly charismatic.
‘Ah!’ Sir Ferse returned. ‘I haven’t had the pleasure of speaking with you yet, young Lord Samuel. This journey is so demanding on us physically that it leaves little energy for the common pleasures of conversation. Master Celios demands so much of my time. I was hoping to corner you eventually for a friendly chat-but it seems you have beaten me to it.’
Samuel was taken aback, for he had not heard more than a few words from the man before. Despite the friendly tone, there was just something disconcerting about the nuances of this man. On top of that, Samuel had the feeling he had met or seen him before and hearing Sir Ferse speak only reinforced the feeling. He was very good at recalling names and places, but in this instance he drew a blank. ‘You know who I am?’
Sir Ferse raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘How does one not know the Saviour of Cintar? Any magician who can achieve as much as you have must,indeed,be great, Samuel. And I’m sure you are destined for even greater things. Wouldn’t you agree?’
The statement had Samuel feeling awkward. ‘I’m not sure. What do you mean?’
‘Oh, don’t be coy. The city itself talks about you. Your two young friends are quite gifted, yes, but they don’t hold a candle to you-oh, no. Why else would the Paatin Queen want to meet you? To see the best, of course!’
Samuel shifted in his boots, trying to ascertain what the man was on about. Such unabated flattery was not something to which he was accustomed and the words just kept rattling from the man’s tongue before Samuel could garner a decent response. ‘Well, I’m not sure about that.’
‘What’s that? They haven’t told you? Well, I can understand why. It would do no good to risk spoilingit foryou, or letting you get a big head about it. YourOutlander modesty is part of your charm.’ Samuel did not know where to look, for he was altogether embarrassed by Sir Ferse’svolleyof compliments. He was already regretting his decision to speak to the manwhenSir Ferse stepped closer and lowered his voice so as not to be overheard. ‘You know, I heard something very interesting about you, Samuel-something I think only you can confirm for me. They say that when the Emperor died, someone was holding the Elder Staff. Some say itisquite uncanny how those dreadful Gartens managed to sidestep the Emperor’s magical shielding just at that critical moment, when he had been unassailable time and time again before that. Some people say it was you, holding theStaff, Samuel. Imagine that. Why would they say such a thing?’
Samuel stepped back and felt the colour drain from his face. ‘I…I…well-’ he muttered, not knowing what to say.
‘I’m sure it’s only speculation, my dear young friend,’ said Sir Ferse,with a dismissive wave of his hand, ‘and we shouldn’t jump to conclusions based on speculation now, should we? Even so, it would be interesting to know the truth of the matter, wouldn’t it-to be a fly on the wall of the palace that day?’
Just then, Master Celios turned from his conversation with Grand Master Tudor and came scampering over with alarm at the sight of Samuel and Sir Ferse conversing.
‘For goodness’sake, Sir Ferse. How many times must I tell you not to bother anyone? Every word you speak is pain to my ears! Come away from poor Samuel,’ and with that Celios dragged the protesting Sir Ferse away by the arm.
‘Samuel,’ Goodfellow said, arriving at his side just as the other two peeled away. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?’
Samuel, in turn, took Goodfellow’s arm and led his friend away from the small clearing to the base of the trunk of the nearest great pine that grewa fewyards away. ‘Sir Ferse,’ he began. ‘He knows about me.’
Goodfellow was confused. ‘He knows what? What do you mean?’
Samuel looked about for any eavesdroppers, but the Koians were already in their tents and the soldiers were engaged in their duties. ‘He knows I killed the Emperor.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Samuel. You didn’t kill the Emperor. The Gartens did.’ Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Perhaps he knows that we had planned to kill him? Some of the old Masters could have talked. Grand
