this morning. From what I heard last night, it seems as if you and Prioress Lizaveta have crossed paths before.'
The young Questor hesitated. He felt loath to divulge the details of his infatuation with Madeleine, and his futile confrontation with the Prioress two days before.
'The full, unvarnished truth, if you please, Brother Mage. Much may depend on it.'
Grimm drew a deep breath. 'On my first visit to the Lodge, I was greeted by a young nun of Lizaveta's order, a girl of my own age named Madeleine, Lord Dominie. She was complimentary to me, and she seemed interested in my company for its own sake. I was well aware of the Guild customs concerning amatory entanglements-' customs which I have since flouted, he thought, '-but I found myself unable to care. I felt bewitched, and so I was.'
Horin raised a white eyebrow, nodding for Grimm to continue.
'In a moment of introspection, I realised that the attraction felt like intoxication, and I invoked the spells resident in my staff to free myself from the effect of the spell. It was as if scales had fallen from my eyes, and I told the girl that I had discovered her deceit. I then went to Prioress Lizaveta and told her I had been ensorcelled by one of her Sisterhood. She assured me that Madeleine would be punished, and dismissed from the Order at once. I took her at her word and considered the matter settled.'
The Dominie leaned forward, his expression intent, but not one of outright condemnation. 'You did not think to report this act to anybody else, Questor Grimm?'
'I thought it a simple matter, no more than a flirtatious young girl's prank, Lord Horin.'
'I would hesitate to use the word 'simple' to describe that situation, young Afelnor!' the senior mage snapped. 'A young witch controlling the will of a full Mage Questor can hardly be considered 'simple'!'
Is this some kind of test?
'I admit to a certain degree of confusion at the time, Lord Dominie,' Grimm confessed.
Horin gave a curt nod and bade him to continue in a noncommittal monotone.
Grimm felt a nervous twitch in his right leg and fought to bring it under control before he spoke again.
'That night,' he said with an accompanying sigh, 'I… I had a very vivid dream, in which I saw Prioress Lizaveta in the crypts of High Lodge with her acolytes. They…'
His voice tailed off, and he cleared his throat. The memory disturbed him even more than it had on that night, now that he knew his supposed nightmare had been a vision of reality. He felt hot tears starting at the corners of his eyes, and he wiped them away with a savage sweep of his left hand.
For several moments, he fought to bring his long-denied emotions under control. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, shaking his head, his breath shuddering and spasmodic. He rocked back and forth in the chair, in an attempt to come to terms with the horror he had witnessed on that night.
Horin leaned forward in his chair and put his hand on Grimm's knee in an almost fatherly gesture, and his rough voice grew kinder: 'Take your time, Questor Grimm; this may be important. We can put Mage Speech aside for a while, if it makes it easier for you. I'm not trying to condemn you or rebuke you; I just wish to know what you know.'
With a final, convulsive jerk, Grimm pushed his conflicting emotions to the back of his mind, as he had been taught. Bringing his breathing under control once more, he nodded.
'Thank you, Lord Horin. I can continue now,' he said. 'I was about to impart to you that I saw the Prioress and her acolytes butcher Madeleine's bruised, ravaged corpse and drink her blood in some vile ceremony. At the time, I considered it a ghastly nightmare, and no more than that.'
'As I told you, forget Mage Speech,' Horin commanded. 'It may cloud the truth on occasion-as, in fact, it is intended to do. Tell me all you can, without elaboration. I gather you don't consider it a dream anymore.'
Grimm smoothed his hair back, although it was not obstructing his vision. Displacement activity, a dispassionate voice in his head said, although he paid it little heed.
'Thank you, Lord Dominie. No, I don't. Necromancer Numal recently heard my story and told me I'd travelled on the astral plane, that what I saw then was a true vision.'
Horin clasped his hands across his chest and settled back in his seat. 'And that's what led you to the crypts last night?'
The young mage nodded. 'It was just as I'd seen it in my vision. Questor Guy found a secret compartment in Lizaveta's throne, with scraps of cloth and bones in it. I recognised a piece of violet cloth as being from Madeleine's dress, and I realised Lizaveta's must have gained much of her power through human sacrifice. The blood soaked into the ground beneath the Lodge, linking her to the earth and allowing her to spread her power throughout the building. I used a form of Gathering spell to pull the blood out of the rock, and I used a spell of Dissolution on the throne and its contents…'
At that moment, Grimm heard a knock on the door and shut his mouth. A fair-haired male servant, perhaps no older than he, entered the room with a large wheeled trolley piled high with delicacies.
'Thank you, Uru; that looks splendid.' Horin smiled, as if the two mages had been doing no more than discussing the weather. Uru bowed, a broad smile on his thin face. 'Kindly pass the word to the Senior Doorkeeper that I wish no more interruptions until further notice. That will be all.'
The servant bowed and left, making hardly a sound as he closed the door behind him.
Horin waited a few moments and turned his gaze back to the young Questor. The older man's eyes looked like twin cannon-mouths, both aimed at him.
'Where were we, Questor Grimm? Ah, yes, you'd just defeated Lizaveta's plans for suborning your Dominie, and perhaps the entire Guild! May I ask why you didn't choose to bring this 'simple little prank' to somebody's attention at once?'
It is a bloody test! Oh, well, here we go.
'I went to see Prioress Lizaveta on the previous night, Dominie, to see if I could sound her out,' he confessed. 'She became… amorous with me, or so it seemed to me. I pushed her away, and she… she told me there was no point in complaining to you because she was in your favour. I took that to mean she had you under some sort of control, and I thought it better if I took the initiative.'
Horin grunted. 'I've heard that about you, Afelnor. Capricious, headstrong and insubordinate: those are just some of the words I've heard used to describe you. I could also add the words impetuous, wilful and obstinate to the list. Is that a fair assessment of your character, Questor Grimm?'
Grimm felt as if he had been punched in the face. The old man had cajoled him, sympathised with him and led him on, only to slap him down. The young mage knew in his heart that those harsh words had been in, all probability, quoted from Xylox's report on his last Quest.
Perhaps Horin now regretted the largesse he had shown on the previous night and now sought to redress his error. There would be no seventh ring for him, no cognomen and nothing but censure for his foolish actions over the previous two days. He had tried-how he had tried!-to be a good Guild Mage, but he had failed, in the eyes of the Master of the Guild. Even with the unstinting support of Lord Thorn, a negative report from the Dominie would finish him as a Questor and a mage.
Damn the old man! Damn them all! The hot feelings that he had tried so hard to suppress bubbled to the surface, and he leapt to his feet in a convulsive movement, all but toppling the table that divided the two magic- users.
'I can see you've already made your mind up, Lord Dominie! If you can't see that I'm a loyal Guild man, then don't play stupid bloody games with me. I've been threatened with decades-long confinement in the Arnor scullery more times than I can count, so please don't waste your time with me anymore. I've had enough, Lord Horin!'
He might lose Drexelica, Redeemer, his Barony and his Guild Ring, but he no longer cared, as the hot hormones or rage flooded through his body. He was tired, and he had expected congratulations instead of opprobrium.
An icy, white-hot shock of horror rose through him, as he realised what he had done in his irritation. Surely the Dominie could not accept such a rebuke from one of his minions!
'I see those words struck a note with you.' Horin remained impassive and unreadable. 'Good. Now sit down, you young idiot. I don't normally waste my time with reprobates; I have people to do that for me. I just wanted to see your reaction.'
Despite the Dominie's quiet voice, the force of his delivery seemed to drive Grimm back into his chair. Embarrassment washed over him as he sat back down, and the words of his foolish outburst reverberated within his skull. He slumped into the deep leather folds of the chair and bowed his head.
