Storm Warning

Finally, a wizened little man stepped forward from behind some of the other Master Craftsmen. From the way they all deferred to him and made way for him, Karal guessed that he might well be senior to all of them. He couldn't have been any taller than Natoli; his gray hair ringed a bald spot that took up most of his scalp, and his clothing was no richer than anyone else's here, but he had an air of competence and authority that no wardrobe could impart.

'Young lady—Natoli, is it?—you were right to ring the Silence Bell,' he said, his old voice cracking. 'This was a tale we all needed to hear—and a task too important for one table of students to deal with! And young secretary, you were right to come here with your tale.' His eyes disappeared in a mass of wrinkles as he squinted in Karal's direction. 'Magic is not the answer to all problems, as I have said in the past.'

'Repeatedly,' one of the boys still seated at Karal's left muttered under his breath.

'Whether or not magic will be the answer to this problem remains to be seen,' the old man continued. 'But if it is careful gathering of facts and measures, and equally careful advice that you want, then this is the place to look to find your experts!'

'Here, here,' murmured several of the other Master Craftsmen; from the tone of their voices, Karal had the shrewd notion that they resented this intrusion of magic and mages into their world and would be very pleased to show that they could solve a crisis that mages could not cope with.

The old man paused and looked out over the taproom. 'I know that there are tasks you have all undertaken and may not in honor leave unfinished—whether those tasks be study and learning, or the building of a road, a mill, or a dwelling. Nevertheless, as I can see at this moment, we all have hours of leisure that are at our disposal, or we would not be here, drinking our hosts' excellent beer and telling lies to one another. Can I request that until this crisis is dealt with, that you devote those hours to your Queen and your land?'

Karal honestly expected that no more than a third of those in this tavern would volunteer—which, philosophically, would be more trained hands, minds and eyes than he'd had when he walked in here, and far more than he ever anticipated! But without warning, Natoli jumped to the top of the table nearest her. She waved once, seizing the attention of everyone in the room, and stood there in a defiant pose, with her feet apart and her hands on her hips.

'How many of you spent your student days in the Collegium?' she asked, before anyone could make an answer, yea or nay, to the old man's question. 'And how many of you saw the highborn brats looking down their noses at us, because we were going to work for our livelihood? And how many of you just twisted with envy every time one of those Herald-trainees rode by on their Companions? The highborn, the trainees, they were going to be important! All we were going to do was make their lives a little easier! Just one short step up from peddlers, that's us!'

The students hissed and booed her words, and the sour looks on the faces of the Master Craftsmen said all that needed to be said,

'But now we can do something they can't!' Natoli cried out in triumph. 'Even those fancy mages, they don't have the training or the organization—they can't look at this problem logically. I don't think they can solve it! But we can! Can't we?'

An angry chorus of 'Aye!' and 'Damn bet!' answered her. She grinned with satisfaction.

'And we're going to solve it, if it takes every spare moment we have, aren't we?'

Again, there was a chorus of assent.

'And how better to get the funding for our projects than to show the Palace that we are the ones with the answers?'

This time the chorus was even stronger. Natoli's grin widened, and she jumped down from the top of the table, bowing slightly to the old man as she alighted.

'I believe you have your answer, Master Magister Henlin,' she said, and made her way back to her table.

The old man shook his head, but grinned anyway, and his eyes disappeared in his wrinkles again. He waited patiently for the noise to die away, then gestured to the rest of the Master Craftsmen.

'Gentlemen, select your helpers; I assume you'll all be selecting your own students, but don't overlook someone who wants to work for you, or who hasn't been chosen. Master Tarn, Master Levy, please go with this young man to the' Palace and present our services to the Queen. I will organize the groups for work tomorrow morning.' He sighed and shook his head. 'I am too old to be traipsing out into a tempest, I fear, or I would go myself.'

'Master' Tam was actually a strong and squarely-built female of late middle age; she laughed and crossed her arms over her chest. 'Henlin, you haven't once left the Compass Rose as long as there was a single drop left in the kegs in all the years I've known you. I hardly expect you to start now.'