'Please, Grimm, just call me Madeleine outside my hours of Observance.' Her wide, blue eyes seemed to fill his field of vision. 'You don't mind me just calling you 'Grimm', do you? All these mage titles just seem so stuffy. You don't have to say 'Sister', either. When I'm free, 'Madeleine' is all you need to call me.'
'Ah; that's… that's fine, M-Madeleine,' Grimm stammered, feeling like a fool. 'Um, would you like something to drink?'
'Spring water will be fine, thank you, Grimm,' the girl replied sweetly, her eyes not leaving his. Seeing no waiter, he excused himself and went in search of one. This was not an easy task in the labyrinthine bar, and he felt himself becoming frustrated, eager to return to Madeleine's attentions.
As he walked by a pillar for perhaps the fifth time, Grimm saw Dalquist, standing with his arms folded across his chest, his lips compressed in a thin line.
'Oh, er, hello, Dalquist,' Grimm said, 'I was just…'
'You were just making a complete idiot of yourself, Questor Grimm! Look at you, a Guild Questor playing lapdog to a supposed religious! What sort of a nun acts like this: have you thought of that?'
Grimm became annoyed. 'Dalquist, this doesn't have anything to do with you! You-'
'Yes, it does, Grimm,' the older Questor interrupted. 'You are not here as a free agent, but as a representative of Arnor House. What sort of marks do you think Magemaster Faffel would give you for Courtly Graces and Decorum right now?' The older man's words were soft, but intense.
'Dalquist, I'm well aware of my responsibilities to the House,' Grimm muttered, 'but I'm not some bloody slave. I also know that I owe you a lot, but that doesn't give you the right to run my life.'
Dalquist sighed. 'Grimm, have you checked that girl's aura? I have. It's as clear as a baby's conscience.'
Grimm smiled, but not in a friendly manner. 'Well, there you are. She's as innocent as she looks. I must say that that was pretty underhanded, though…'
Dalquist leaned close and hissed, 'Too damned clean, Grimm. Nobody in the world is that innocent. There's absolutely nothing in that aura: no impatience; no excitement; and no bloody infatuation. Somebody is screening that aura from my Sight. I have no idea how to do that, and I don't know of any other mage who does; there's some magic involved that we don't know about, and that worries me.'
Grimm thumped Redeemer on the floor in annoyance. 'I think you're just jealous, Dalquist. I think you need to get out more often, and get on with your own life instead of trying to run mine.' He stormed off in search of a waiter, furious at what he saw as his friend's unwanted interference.
Dalquist approached the girl, who regarded him with a cool, neutral expression. 'May I help you?' she asked.
'I will be brief,' the Questor intoned. 'I do not know what your little game is, but I do know that you are not some lovelorn ingenue engaged in innocent flirtation. I want you-no, I instruct you-to end your little game, now.'
'My word, Questor, how forceful you are,' Madeleine said in a jaded tone. 'Still, I'm afraid I'm going to have to turn you down. And, since the members of my Order are officially under the protection of Lord Dominie Horin during our stay here, I don't think there's a lot you can do about it, unless you want to blast me into tiny fragments. I don't think that would look very good, now would it? The murder of a sweet, innocent nun would not go down well here, I imagine. Ah, here comes my good friend, Grimm.'
Her face broke into a warm smile at Grimm's approach. The young Questor placed a glass of water and a glass of wine on the table, and snarled, 'Excuse me a moment, Madeleine. I'd just like a quick word with my colleague, Dalquist.'
He put a none-too friendly hand on his fellow Questor's arm and propelled him into a vacant bay. 'You couldn't leave it alone, could you? You just had to interfere. I'm warning you, Questor Dalquist, if you can't be happy for me then just leave me alone, or you and I will fall out.'
Dalquist felt stunned by the ferocity of his younger friend's reaction. Surely there was something more than simple adolescent infatuation at work here; nobody could have gone through the rigorous training in self-control that every Questor underwent, only to sink into this mindless, self-indulgent behaviour. Grimm seemed unable to listen to reason; dry talk of duty and responsibility might serve little purpose except to widen the nascent gulf between the two mages.
Dalquist could detect no mage influence at work on his friend, but he knew something was afoot. He decided to act with the greatest of care.
'I'm sorry, Grimm. I just wanted to be sure you weren't hurt. Please forgive me for my concerns. Let's meet up over breakfast tomorrow, and we can start again.'
Grimm took a deep breath, and lifted his hand from Dalquist's shoulder. 'Perhaps, Dalquist; I'll see how I feel in the morning.' He turned on his heel and returned to Madeleine without a backward glance.
Dalquist looked at the pair. Grimm wore a vacuous smile on his face as he stared into the girl's eyes. She had hold of his hands, looking to Dalquist like some improbable hybrid of a mindless innocent and a complete slut. Some magic other than puppy love was at work here, and he intended to find out what it was.
Dalquist made a few inquiries and ascertained that the Prioress of the Order was in residence. Perhaps a visit might be in order.
It took little time to find the Prioress' apartments with the aid of the marvellous Charm of Location, and Dalquist wondered just how he would handle this situation. It seemed to him improbable that wild, irate accusations would bring the Reverend Mother to his side; calm diplomacy would be necessary.
Power and presence, Questor Dalquist: power and presence at all times, he reminded himself as he approached the chamber.
A gentle tap at the door was answered with a sibilant, 'Enter, Supplicant,' and Dalquist entered the room.
This was no austere religious refuge. Compared even to the opulent splendour of High Lodge's quarters, this suite of rooms seemed extravagant. A small, shrivelled woman dressed in a flowing, white dress lay at her ease on a comfortable, blood-red divan furnished with gold-tasselled cushions and brocade drapes. The old woman nodded.
'Ah, Lord Mage; I bid you welcome. How may I be of service to you? I normally receive visitors only by appointment, but I am happy to make an exception in the case of such a distinguished mage.'
The Prioress' words might be polite, but Dalquist found the sound of her voice unsettling, hideous, and the Questor had to fight to keep his facial expression deferent and neutral. The woman held out her left hand, which bore a large ruby ring on the third finger.
Dalquist proffered a deep, respectful bow, dropping to one knee as he kissed the proffered ring, with Shakhmat floating in the air behind him.
'Thank you, Reverend Mother,' he said. 'My name is Dalquist Rufior, and I have come here on behalf of my fellow Questor, Grimm Afelnor. Are you aware that one of the Sisters of your Order is currently consorting with him?'
The Prioress shrugged. 'A harmless dalliance, I am sure, Questor Dalquist. My Order does not forbid innocent, platonic friendships between the sexes. I feel sure that this is no more than a friendly liaison between two young people.'
Dalquist rubbed his chin. How was he to approach this difficult subject? 'Reverend Mother, I have reason to believe that this is not a platonic friendship. It seems to me more like some kind of amorous ensorcellment. My colleague seems no longer under his free will. He is a Questor, a mage of extraordinary self-control and willpower, and yet he appears to have surrendered himself completely to the attentions of this young nun of your own Order. Some kind of magical influence seems to be at work here, a magic of a type with which I am unfamiliar.'
Lizaveta stood up, her head at the level of the underside of Dalquist's chin, a solemn expression on her face. 'Questor Dalquist, this is a most serious allegation. Have you identified the spell involved?'
Dalquist sighed. 'Reverend Mother, I have not. However, I do know that some unfamiliar magic is at work. The girl somehow hides her true aura from my Mage Sight.'
