Alpaurle:Who, then, is the trustworthy man?
The High Priest:Why, one who can be trusted, of course.
Alpaurle: And how do we know that a man can be trusted?
The High Priest: Such a man does not engage in deceit. Alpaurle:And how do we know this of him?
The High Priest: Because in all his dealings he is honest.
Alpaurle: But what of a man who is simply never caught in deceit? Would he not appear to be trustworthy? How, then, do we know the trustworthy man?
The High Priest: I see that you are again trying to confuse me.
Alpaurle: Not at all! I am only trying to resolve my own confusion.That is why I ask.
-Alpaurle, from Conversations with the High Priest of Ulet, Conversation VI, edited by Feven IV of the City Emerald
fter the incident with Ilian, Jedron became more surly and combative than ever. Silverdun couldn't tell whether he was angry at himself for allowing himself to be used by Ilian, or whether he was genuinely dismayed at the loss of his only companion. Whatever the reason, he took out his extra aggressions on Silverdun. Not only did he increase the intensity and frequency of their practice sessions, but he also unloaded a great deal of Ilian's chores onto Silverdun. So in addition to his grueling workouts, Silverdun now found himself cooking meals and scrubbing floors.
Nice work for the Faerie lord of Oarsbridge and Connaugh manors. Not that he'd ever been much of a lord. Looking back, Silverdun had to admit that the lordship was only really good for two things: giving him access to women of every station, and providing enough income to keep him off the streets. Being bowed at was all well and good, but Silverdun had discovered over the years that he found commoners and bourgeoisie much more pleasant to be around than his alleged peers.
'Not enough!' shouted Jedron one morning as Silverdun failed to climb the tower by hand in the amount of time that Jedron deemed fitting. 'You've got Elements, schoolboy! If there aren't any handholds, then make handholds! Just make them so no one will notice them.'
A few evenings later, during one of their map studies, Jedron-com- pletely out of the blue-snapped Silverdun with a cloth map, using it like a whip. It caught Silverdun in the eye, blinding it for a full day.
Jedron refused to discuss Ilian, or the man Than had killed (or indeed whether this was the other recruit), or even mention Ilian's name. After the first day, he had Silverdun take Ilian's meals to him, while Jedron decided what to do with him.
The basement was small, with a cell in one corner. Ilian had been dumped in the cell, beaten and bloodied, wearing only a loincloth.
The bars of the cell were of cold iron. When Silverdun was a boy, he'd thought that cold iron was actually cold. He was disabused of that notion when he touched a bar of it on a dare at boarding school. Upon touching it, the flesh of his fingers leapt away, seemingly on its own, tearing itself in its hurry to avoid the touch of the metal. The amused school physician had explained that re, the magical essence, had a deep disaffinity for cold iron, was intensely repelled by it. Silverdun had developed a huge blister on his finger and hadn't been able to use re for a week.
At first, Ilian simply took the meals, which were mainly bread and water, without speaking, and handed Silverdun his waste bucket in exchange. He looked Silverdun in the eye, questioningly, but said nothing.
Then one morning two weeks later, when Silverdun brought him his breakfast, Ilian spoke.
'How is he?' he asked, taking the small dry loaf through the bars.
'What?' asked Silverdun.
'How is Jedron? His moods. Has he become more withdrawn? Begun drinking to excess, that sort of thing?'
'What is it to you? If I recall correctly, you were attempting to murder all of us a few weeks ago. Your concern seems misplaced.'
'I care deeply about Jedron. He is my oldest and truest friend. But you must understand that he is not what he once was. He sometimes becomes irrational, paranoid. As a teacher and a former Shadow himself, he has no peer, but the truth is that his advancing age, the isolation, and the guilt over his actions have taken their toll.'
Silverdun let this sink in for a moment. Could Than be telling the truth? His heart began to sink in his chest. If Jedron was truly mad ...
'I saw you kill a man,' said Silverdun. 'And you tried to poison me.'
'Are you sure that's what you saw?' said Ilian. 'Did you actually see me kill Ironfoot?'
Ironfoot. The other recruit. Silverdun thought back. He'd seen torches.
