away with no more than a flick of the reins and a gentle clicking of his tongue; the youth seemed a confident and considerate handler of horses, despite his callow appearance.
As the wagon moved away, he saw Drex, his love, standing by the turret's entrance, and his heart bounded. He longed to take her in his arms and kiss her, but he crushed his burgeoning passion into a tight, fervid lump inside him. A sarcastic, spiteful mage like Guy might make his life as a Guild Mage very uncomfortable, if he were to make it known that Grimm Afelnor of Arnor House had a lover.
Lord Horin might have been indulgent about the knowledge of the young Questor's amorous involvement, but Grimm was only too aware of the prevalent myth within the Guild: sharing physical passion with a woman was supposed to destroy a mage's powers.
He knew, only too well, that this myth was no more than a lie, but such a relationship was still a gross breach of Guild protocol. He saw Drex's eyes flick towards Guy and Horin, and then shift back to his, as the mage gave a slight, apologetic shake of his head.
He moved towards her, and whispered, 'I'm sorry, Drex; it won't always be like this, I promise. I just have one more Quest to complete…'
'There'll always be just one more Quest, won't there, Grimm?' The girl's voice was quiet, but hot and annoyed. 'It's never going to change, is it? You'll always be at the beck and call of the bloody Guild.'
Grimm shut his eyes, as frustration boiled up inside him. 'Look, Drex, I…'
'Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?' Guy called in a bored voice. 'Come on, Afelnor, I'm not going to hang around here all day. If you've quite finished flirting with the servants, I expect a hot bath and a bloody good meal.'
Grimm stiffened, and he felt hot rage flooding into his face. He wanted to pound Guy into the ground until the petty, self-important snob pleaded for mercy. He wanted…
He returned to sanity with a sharp squeeze of his forearm. 'It's all right, Grimm,' Drex whispered. 'I think I see the real problem here. Just promise me you won't invite this silly, stuck-up little twerp here as a permanent guest, and I'll play along, for now.'
Grimm took a deep breath and allowed his anger to subside. 'I'm really sorry, Drex.'
'Go on, get on with it,' Drexelica muttered. In a louder voice, she said, 'At your service, Lord Baron.'
Guy gave vent to a fulsome and indecorous belch after the splendid meal Drex had provided. The girl curtseyed and disappeared like the dutiful servant she was supposed to be. In contrast to the older mage's animalistic gluttony, Grimm ate little; the sharp pangs of guilt he felt from having denied his true love dulled his appetite.
This is important! he told himself. The Guild is in peril, and I have been chosen as its saviour!
Despite these ringing sentiments, he remained disconsolate. Grimm's large, circular drawing room was empty except for the three mages, who reclined on divans upholstered in red velvet.
'What's it all about, Afelnor?' Guy drawled. 'Horin only told me the bare minimum about this Quest. It seems you're flavour of the month right now, so why don't you fill Grandpa and me in on what we have to do?'
Grimm could sense the rising of Numal's ire, along with his own growing annoyance, although the timid Necromancer did nothing more than glare. 'For a start, Brother Mage, I don't want you to insult Necromancer Numal anymore. I request that you address him with the respect due to a full Guild Mage.'
'You dare to tell me what I can and can't do?' the elder Questor spat. 'Who in Hades do you think you are, Afelnor?'
'I'm running this expedition, Brother Mage! Or didn't Lord Horin tell you that?'
Guy guffawed. 'Ah, come on, half-pint, he just said that for form's sake! Like it or not, I'm the senior Questor present, and I'm not about to play second fiddle to some jumped-up Adept who's barely got his feet wet!'
Numal started. 'Questor Guy! That's too-'
'Stay out of this, old-timer,' the Great Flame interrupted. 'This is between me and wonder-boy, here! You just-'
Struggling in vain to control the conflicting passions roiling within him, Grimm gave free rein to his emotions in one titanic shout, its volume augmented by a judicious dose of thaumaturgic power: 'ENOUGH!'
Echoes of his scream bounced from the walls for several moments, and the young mage saw it had had the desired effect.
Guy looked disorientated and confused, as if some prize-fighter had landed a solid punch on the point of his jaw. Numal's mouth hung slack; he looked almost like a caricature of the stereotypical village idiot.
'I am in command, Questor Guy. This is not a democracy. It's not about me being first, and you being second.
'I'm in charge, and you're not! That's all there is! If you don't like it, I suggest you go back to Lord Horin and argue with him. If you don't acknowledge my authority right now, I don't want you on this Quest; is that understood? This expedition may prove hard enough, even without having to contend with dissent between us!'
'You've got some front, Afelnor; I'll say that for you.' Guy shook his head as if to clear some inner obstruction. 'But that doesn't compare with experience, and you're a fool if you think it does. I have a dozen Quests to my name, and I'd lay you any odds you like that my magic's more potent than anything you can muster. Horin's old and confused; he never meant for you to be in charge, really; it stands to reason.'
Grimm felt a cool, strange sense of calm beginning to flow within him. 'I hope you enjoyed your meal, Questor Guy. I'd rather have you on my side, but it's plain that I can't trust you in the simplest of matters, such as common courtesy between us; I don't want you with me.'
Despite recognising that Guy's experience might be a critical asset to the Quest, Grimm could not countenance the prospect of continual bickering on the trail. Guy was just too hot-tempered and intolerant.
'All right, Afelnor; as you say,' the older Questor said quickly, opening his hands in placation, almost like a penitent supplicant in a church. 'I apologise for my disrespect to you, Necromancer Numal.
'Brother Questor, I acknowledge your absolute authority for the conduct of this Quest. Am I forgiven?'
Guy's wide eyes and saintly expression suggested a misunderstood, guileless innocent, although the Dragonblaster had seen similar, abrupt volte-faces before.
Isn't this just like Guy? Grimm thought. He changes his mind at a moment's notice; how can I rely on a man like that?
Nonetheless, he had to acknowledge that the older Questor, if he was as good as his word-which was questionable-could prove a powerful factor in the Quest's potential success.
With a sigh, Grimm told himself he could not afford to be capricious or judgemental on his first Quest as senior mage. Horin's eyes, at least, were upon him, and the Dominie would expect him to be able to handle inner disputes.
'Very well, Questor Guy,' he found himself saying, 'If you're prepared to submit to my leadership, then I may change my mind. Now, if we've finished bickering, let's get down to business. We may have a long night ahead of us, so I'd rather get started as early as possible.'
'As you say, Chief; let's get started, by all means.'
If there was a trace of sarcasm in Guy's voice, Grimm chose to ignore it.
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Chapter 21: Rebellion
Grimm spent the next two weeks preparing for the Quest. He put himself through a punishing, demanding series of exercises every morning, studied maps and documents during the afternoon and worked on Redeemer throughout the night. He spent long hours muttering to the six-foot, brass-tipped rod, as he had during its preparation, pouring his strength into it in order to provide him with a store of magical energy to be used when needed.
