{"id":1461,"date":"2015-02-23T16:45:06","date_gmt":"2015-02-23T16:45:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/?p=1461"},"modified":"2015-02-23T16:47:28","modified_gmt":"2015-02-23T16:47:28","slug":"the-mages-of-bennamore-read-chapters-1-4-free","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/2015\/02\/the-mages-of-bennamore-read-chapters-1-4-free\/","title":{"rendered":"‘The Mages of Bennamore’: Chapters 1-4"},"content":{"rendered":"

1: A Death<\/strong><\/p>\n

The day before my fortieth birthday, my employer killed himself.<\/p>\n

It was expected, naturally. No ship owner could lose his entire fleet to the waves without paying the price of failure, no matter that the fleet comprised a single ship. Master Krend had to do what was proper, or lose all his rank, leaving his family destitute. It wasn\u2019t his fault his only ship had foundered in a storm. He didn\u2019t deserve to die, but that was the way things were done in the Port Holdings.<\/p>\n

Everything had been prepared. Master Krend had already sent his younger children away. He had been measured for his shroud. He had dictated the notifications of his death to me, my last and most distressing duty as his recorder. Now he had carried out his own last duty. The only person at all surprised was the kitchen girl, who came up from the basement to begin her chores and found the body hanging from the beams amongst the hams and herbs and strings of onions.<\/p>\n

Master Krend\u2019s son, Brin, took charge. He was younger than me but already portly. Grey-faced but calm, he dispatched the servants to their quarters in the basement. They belonged to the house and would transfer to the new owner.<\/p>\n

No such surety for me. I was out of a job and a home, resigned to the prospect of a miserable few quarter moons in a rooming house, cold and hungry, eking out my savings until I could find work again.<\/p>\n

Dragon\u2019s teeth, I could hardly believe this was happening to me again. Just when I\u2019d got comfortably settled, too. Had the Goddess cursed me? Here I was, hammering on the doors of middle-age, a woman without family or wealth or any useful talent, once more forced to scratch around for work. I wasn\u2019t born for this uncertainty, but I wasn\u2019t going to let it grind me to dust, either. I still had my dignity.<\/p>\n

I waited, hands clasped in front of me, as Brin dealt with the servants and then turned slowly to me. He looked at me across the hallway, the closed kitchen door at his back. Behind it, his father\u2019s body still hung, waiting for the shipping registrar to agree that he was indeed dead, and initiate the required processes. At my back, the solid front door of carved mahogany, imported all the way from the northern coast at vast expense by Master Krend\u2019s grandfather. Soon it would open and close for another family.<\/p>\n

Brin coughed. \u201cDo you have somewhere to go, Fen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know a place. I have a little money put by. I won\u2019t starve.\u201d True enough, but soup and stale bread was only one step above starvation. \u201cMay I leave my things until\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, of course.\u201d He twisted his hands helplessly. \u201cFen, I\u2019m so sorry. Throwing you out like this, it\u2019s despicable.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the law, so there\u2019s nothing more to say about it.\u201d I shrugged. It was pointless to rail against the edicts of the Holders. \u201cDon\u2019t worry about me, I\u2019ll be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

He trod across the hall and hugged me awkwardly. I hesitated, arms at my side, but there was no harm in it now, so I reached round his ample frame and gently patted his back. He hugged me a little tighter and then released me. I cast a final, regretful glance around the hall at the thick rugs and rich furnishings, a brazier warming the air. Then, with a sigh, I opened the door and stepped through, leaving the Krend house forever.<\/p>\n

Outside, I was shocked to find it still dark. It seemed hours since the maid\u2019s screams had dragged me from sleep, yet the horizon was only just lightening. None of the port offices would be open yet. I fastened my coat, pulled woollen gloves and a battered hat from my pockets, and strode briskly towards the lamps of the highway.<\/p>\n

The port town of Carrinshar Holding sat in the bowl of a valley, and there was hardly a level street anywhere. Master Krend\u2019s house was high on the western side. My steps took me down the hill, away from the secluded walled estates and broad, paved roads, into narrower winding alleys where my boots slid on damp cobbles and I had to feel for the guide ropes in the darkness.<\/p>\n

Eventually I came out in the market square on the level area of ground fringing the sea, where the wind poked icy fingers through my coat. If only I had a good thick cloak, but it wasn\u2019t proper attire for someone of my station. Ahead of me lay the harbour, a forest of jostling masts. To my left, the squalid docks and warehouses and sailors\u2019 boarding houses. On the right, a road paved with pure white slabs led up the cliff to where the great stone Hold maintained a brooding watch over us all.<\/p>\n

The market stallholders had barely begun to set up their goods. Lights from soup houses and bars glowed in some of the tall buildings edging the square. I picked one at random, but they were all the same: dark and warm, smelling of yesterday\u2019s fish stew, the air heavy with the smoke of cheap lamp oil. Eyes gleamed in shadowy corners.<\/p>\n

\u201cWant a brew, ducky?\u201d asked a round serving woman at the counter. \u201cTwo bits.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded, and passed her the coins. All the coastal folk drank hot brew by the bucketful, and each Port Holding had its own favoured recipe. Carrinshar\u2019s was dark and thick, but very sweet. And cheap, a great virtue.<\/p>\n

I took my mug to a seat near the only window, wrapping my frozen fingers around its warmth, and watched as the first trawlers bobbed out of the harbour and the market gradually came alive. Other customers came and went, but no one took any notice of me. A mousy woman dressed in drab skirt and coat attracted no attention.<\/p>\n

Two more brews and a slice of bread filled with cheese passed the time until the sun was up. At the harbour-master\u2019s office, the boy came out to scrub the step. A man appeared on the roof, scattering protesting gulls, and slowly hoisted the first hour flag. The working day had officially begun, and at last I could go to the employment registrar.<\/p>\n

It was not far to walk. All the important offices clustered around the harbour, solid stone buildings three or four storeys high. They were large but plainly decorated, eschewing the porticoes and pillars and statuary favoured by the wealthy merchants and ship-owners. The employment office\u2019s main entrance was crowded with hopeful packers and sailors, carpenters and fish-gutters looking for day work. I went in through a discreet side door to the office for lettered applicants.<\/p>\n

\u201cFen!\u201d The voice boomed from the far corner of the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaster Tylk.\u201d I waited for him to weave through the score or so desks dotted haphazardly about the room. Only a few were occupied. I recognised a couple of faces, and nodded to them before Tylk reached me.<\/p>\n

He was a big man in every sense: tall, and broad, lavishly dressed, an imposing figure with a foghorn voice to match. His beard was small, as befitted his rank, but the ends of his moustache trailed almost to his waist. \u201cFen, my dear girl! Here you are. So he finally did it, eh? But don\u2019t tell me you\u2019ve been wandering the streets all night?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly since just before dawn. I found a soup house to skulk in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou could have come to me, dear girl, whatever the hour.\u201d He leaned closer and took my gloved hand in his. He probably thought it a tender and intimate moment, but his words echoed off the walls. \u201cI would always look after you, as you well know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat wouldn\u2019t have been seemly.\u201d I couldn\u2019t help smiling, though, as I retrieved my hand. I\u2019d been fending off such proposals from Tylk ever since I\u2019d arrived in Carrinshar.<\/p>\n

\u201cTsk! What does that matter? Fen, I am astounded by your ill fortune. I never knew a recorder be out of work so often, for one reason or another. Ah, but this is the worst reason. To lose the entire business! This must be\u2026 what, the fourth time this has happened to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe fifth.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe fifth! Goddess preserve us! Remember the woman who did the deed at midnight, on the coldest night of the year? It\u2019s so uncivilised, to throw you out just like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know the rules, Tylk. Everything that belongs to the house is locked in, and everything else is locked out. It\u2019s worse for the servants, cooped up in the basement for quarter moons on end.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, let us be thankful that you are out of that house now, and free to look about for a new position at last,\u201d he said, moving briskly from commiserations to business.<\/p>\n

That suited me, too. \u201cSo who\u2019s looking for a recorder just now? Anyone interesting?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that\u2019s just it.\u201d He scratched his head thoughtfully. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing at all going on. I\u2019ve been keeping my eye open for something for you, since we heard\u2026 but ever since last year, when we allied with Bennamore\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAllied? Ha! That\u2019s a new word for it. I thought we were subjugated in a humiliatingly brief and decisive war.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHush, hush, dear girl.\u201d He flapped his hands at me. \u201cIf the Holders choose to call it an alliance, who are we to question their wisdom?\u201d<\/p>\n

I snorted. \u201cWisdom? You know perfectly well\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

The hands flapped harder. \u201cFen, Fen! Let\u2019s not start the day with one of your orations. Come, sit down, have a brew. Morn, fetch a brew for Fen, will you?\u201d A plump girl no more than twenty nodded and scuttled away.<\/p>\n

My day had started many hours ago, and my stomach revolted at the thought of more brew, but I let him fuss around. I needed his help to find a new job, so I smiled and waited obediently for my brew.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you have nothing for me?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly old Master Trall, and I wouldn\u2019t dream of letting you go back there<\/em>.\u201d He shuddered, while I tried not to smile. He\u2019d been more traumatised by Trall\u2019s lecherous attempts on my virtue than I ever was. \u201cEveryone else is waiting until things calm down before they take on the expense of a new employee. The new taxes have been so unsettling, and now there\u2019s some sort of delegation coming from Bennamore. To help us, they say.\u201d He lowered his voice a fraction, leaning closer. \u201cTo spy on us, more like. Making sure we do what we\u2019re told.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNaturally they want to keep an eye on us,\u201d I said sharply. \u201cThat\u2019s common sense. And honestly, the taxes are not very different. People grumble too much.\u201d<\/p>\n

He eyed me speculatively, as if wondering whether my waspishness was due to more than just losing my job. He\u2019d suspected Worker Brin of having designs on me, and he wasn\u2019t far wrong, either, but I\u2019d never been tempted. Nor was I interested in Tylk. My heart had been lost many years ago.<\/p>\n

~~~~~<\/p>\n

I made my way through chill drizzle to my new home. Mistress Jast\u2019s rooming house was small and unassuming. It huddled between two bigger buildings like a poor cousin trying not to be noticed at the family gathering. Inside, the furnishings were shabby and no meals or laundry were provided. However, it was on the quieter, western side of town, with a bathhouse round the corner, and high enough up the hill to escape the worst sewage and fish smells that pervaded the harbour area.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guessed I\u2019d be seeing you soon, deary. Come in, come in.\u201d The door opened wide, and I squeezed by Jast, an enormous mountain of flesh with eyes so dark they looked like currants pressed into her doughy face. \u201cYou can have the blue room at the top this time, if you like. You won\u2019t mind if I don\u2019t show you the way? I have a batch to go in the oven.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course not. I know where it is.\u201d Jast never did go upstairs, but she liked to pretend that she still could, if she wanted to.<\/p>\n

My room was tiny, tucked under the roof, but it had a shelf for my books and a window with a wide seat overlooking the street. I would be able to read at brightmoon without wasting oil on lamps. The only thing blue about it was the door. Inside, every surface was dull brown or grey, coated with dust. The girl didn\u2019t get up the stairs too often, either, by the look of things.<\/p>\n

I went back downstairs and into the big kitchen at the back of the house. Jast lolled in a rocking chair fanning herself, while the girl did something involving a lot of flour, and the boy shuffled around with a broom. Jast always had a girl and a boy working for her. They changed pretty often, but it didn\u2019t much matter. They were all the same; fifteen or thereabouts, sulky and lazy, pretending to work when Jast was watching, but stopping the instant she left the room or fell asleep.<\/p>\n

I gave the boy five bits to fetch my boxes from Master Krend\u2019s house, and offered the girl ten to clean my room. I knew she wouldn\u2019t agree to that, but it was a game they all played. Well, I knew how to play that game, too.<\/p>\n

She pretended to consider it. \u201cWell\u2026 I dunno, see. I got to get the batch in the oven, see.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwelve?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI could do it for a bar, mebbe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now I had her. \u201cNever mind. I\u2019ll get the girl from the laundry to come round.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell\u2026 I s\u2019pose twelve\u2019d do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you make the bed up as well, and leave a basin of hot water for me, I\u2019ll round it up to fifteen.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smirked, and took off with surprising alacrity.<\/p>\n

Jast\u2019s eyes twinkled. \u201cYou were always clever at getting yourself a bargain, Fen. She\u2019s a lazy sow, that one. I didn\u2019t think she\u2019d settle for less than a bar.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo point paying that much,\u201d I said. \u201cShe won\u2019t do the work any better.\u201d I\u2019d learned over the years just how much to pay; too much and they think you\u2019re a soft touch, but too little and they get their revenge one way or another. I\u2019d never forgotten the dead mouse.<\/p>\n

Jast sighed with exaggerated energy, her chins wobbling. \u201cAnd now who\u2019ll finish my batch?\u201d She waved a languid hand towards the flour-strewn devastation. Jast, or rather the current girl, made several batches of brinies each day, which Jast\u2019s sister sold along the wharves.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t look at me! I\u2019m a recorder, Jast, I don\u2019t dabble with pastry.\u201d<\/p>\n

She sighed again, resigned this time. \u201cDrape that cloth over the mess – yes, that\u2019s the one. It can wait until the girl gets back. Now\u2026\u201d She patted the chair next to her, eyes gleaming with excitement. She leaned across and whispered, \u201cSo\u2026 tell me all about it. How did he do it in the end?\u201d<\/p>\n

I was expecting to be questioned. Even so I was unprepared for the rush of grief that assailed me. There were even tears prickling behind my eyes. I couldn\u2019t bring myself to say the words, so I mimed the noose.<\/p>\n

Her face fell. \u201cWell. The traditional ways have a certain style, I suppose. But let\u2019s have all the details. Who found him?\u201d<\/p>\n

I stumbled through the tale. The words were surprisingly hard to say, but I held back nothing. It was how the ports dealt with their tragedies, by telling and retelling the tale to each other in glorious minuteness.<\/p>\n

When even her vast curiosity was fully sated, it was my turn. \u201cSo what else is going on in the world?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, deary, let me see\u2026 Mistress Tranna had her baby, although\u2026\u201d She lowered her voice and shielded her mouth with her hand, even though we were alone. \u201cThey say the little one isn\u2019t a bit like her husband. Quite different colouring.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled dutifully, but Mistress Tranna\u2019s adventurings held no interest for me.<\/p>\n

She chuckled, setting the chins awobble again. \u201cYou heard about the trouble at the wharves? The new taxes\u2026\u201d A heavy sigh. \u201cNobody likes paying more, do they? But the Holder was there yesterday talking to the packers, and it\u2019s all settled down again.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Holder was a mild-mannered man of learning, clever enough to argue his case with armed Defenders at his back; I wasn\u2019t surprised the packers had gone back to work.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes,\u201d she went on, \u201cand Mistress Sella\u2019s two youngest have been asked to help out at the Holder\u2019s guest house again.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was more interesting. \u201cSomeone special coming?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jast shrugged. \u201cSome people from our new masters, it seems, come to inspect their possession. But Sella\u2019s properly upset about it, because there will be wizards or some such in the party, and she doesn\u2019t want her little ones fried or turned into toads or such like.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was an effort not to laugh. \u201cWizards? You mean mages?\u201d Now that would<\/em> be interesting.<\/p>\n

\u201cMages? I don\u2019t know\u2026 they can do spells and such like. That\u2019s a wizard, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn Bennamore they call them mages, and they say they can do spells, but who knows? I suppose it\u2019s some kind of trick, but it would be fun to watch, wouldn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked at me in horror. \u201cFun?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course! But I don\u2019t suppose ordinary people like us will get to see them perform. I wonder why they\u2019re sending them here?\u201d<\/p>\n

She shrugged, uninterested, and went on to talk of something else, but I was lost in thought. Bennamore was so protective of its mages, yet some had been sent to each of the three Greater Holdings. Now we, the smallest and least significant of Holdings, were to have our share of magic, too.<\/p>\n

It was puzzling. I couldn\u2019t think of a good reason for it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

2: The Mages<\/strong><\/p>\n

When I went back to Tylk\u2019s office the next day to formally register my desire for employment, I found him in a lather of excitement.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy dear girl, have you heard? Mages! Mages from Bennamore! So astounding, don\u2019t you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI agree.\u201d We were sitting in Tylk\u2019s private office, so that I could complete my application in private. I scratched away with my pen, while he strode up and down, arms waving. His booming voice rattled the ink pots on the shelf.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did we ever do to qualify for such attention, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho knows?\u201d I answered absently, trying to remember dates and addresses. \u201cTylk, don\u2019t you have all my earlier papers?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, dear girl, but you have to start anew, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut if you have the old ones, I could copy the details. I can\u2019t remember all the people I\u2019ve worked for over the years. I don\u2019t even remember how many there have been.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFourteen altogether, I believe, and it will be twenty years come the autumn equinox since you arrived here.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was flattering to find his memory so exact. He was an irritant, of course, but I could never be cross with him.<\/p>\n

He opened drawers, apparently at random, until he found my file. \u201cThere you are, dear girl.\u201d<\/p>\n

The box was embarrassingly full. Three and a bit years was the longest I\u2019d ever stayed with anyone, and the shortest was two days. Some recorders stayed a lifetime with one employer, whereas I returned time after time to Master Tylk. If I were superstitious, I might think that the Goddess didn\u2019t want me to be a recorder at all.<\/p>\n

~~~~~<\/p>\n

I settled into my new home with Mistress Jast, as I had so many times before. I paid the girl a half bar each quarter moon to bring me a jug of hot water every morning and deal with my linen, and the same amount to the boy to clean and lay the fire. I came to an arrangement with a brother and sister at the nearest laundry rooms to wash my clothes. Each evening, I went to a cheap soup house for my supper, and in the mornings I could usually pick up brinies to eat, unsold from the day before. Twice each quarter moon, I went to the public bathhouse, grieving for the loss of the indoor bathing room I\u2019d enjoyed at Master Krend\u2019s house.<\/p>\n

I spent my days at Master Tylk\u2019s office, interviewing those looking for employment, and matching them with suitable openings. It was copyist\u2019s work, and paid accordingly. It wouldn\u2019t cover my expenses, but I would be the first to know if anything suitable became available. Nothing did.<\/p>\n

The mages arrived. Although all sorts of rumours flew about them, reality turned out to be rather more mundane. There were only two men, a father and son, looking just like normal people, so it was said, apart from garish tattoos on their foreheads.<\/p>\n

But they were not alone. Tylk leaned down to whisper in my ear one day as I sat at my desk. \u201cYou will never guess what I\u2019ve heard!\u201d His voice was loud enough to rattle my teeth. \u201cThey are looking for a house to rent, and they have brought a whole household of servants with them!\u201d<\/p>\n

I burst out laughing, then whispered back, \u201cOh dear! But why do they need a house? They could stay in the Holder\u2019s guest house indefinitely. I daresay they could move into the Hold itself, if they felt the desire.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey are starting a business, it seems. Although I can\u2019t see what. Do you think they will buy a ship and go whaling?\u201d He chuckled.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, they\u2019ll be selling love potions, I expect. Or telling fortunes.\u201d I lowered the tone of my voice portentously. \u201c\u2018You will undertake a long journey across water\u2026\u2019<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

He spluttered with laughter and walked away shaking his head at the ways of our foreign masters.<\/p>\n

There was much speculation on which house the mages would take. The popular theory was a small place in the merchant quarter, so they could conduct their business on the ground floor, and live upstairs. After all, there were only two of them. If they wanted something more substantial, there was Master Krend\u2019s house in the ship-owners\u2019 quarter.<\/p>\n

The mages astonished the population by taking the Red Hold. It was easily the largest private house in Carrinshar, a vast echoing pile half-way up the western cliff, with a fine view over the town and harbour. It also had a high wall all round, which apparently clinched the deal. The mages had a desire for privacy, it seemed. They had even brought their own guards with them from Bennamore.<\/p>\n

~~~~~<\/p>\n

For a few days all was quiet, but one morning when I arrived at the office, Tylk was waiting for me with barely suppressed glee. \u201cAt last! Work for you, my dear girl!\u201d He rubbed his huge hands together, and the long tails of his moustache shivered in sympathetic delight.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh? Something decent?\u201d I hung my coat on a peg and went to get my first hot mug of brew for the day, hugging it to my chest as if it could warm my bones. I was always cold these days.<\/p>\n

Tylk followed, bending over to grin into my face. \u201cVery decent. You\u2019ll never guess!\u201d But he didn\u2019t pause long enough for me to try. \u201cIt\u2019s the mages. There! What do you think of that?\u201d<\/p>\n

The mug of brew stopped half-way to my lips. I stared at him in disbelief. \u201cWhat do they need a recorder for? Don\u2019t tell me they\u2019re selling their illusions for rounds?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey certainly are.\u201d He chortled with delight. \u201cAs if anyone would pay silver<\/em> for their little tricks. But that\u2019s what they charge in Bennamore, it seems, so we are expected to pay the same. It will be dreadfully boring for you. You won\u2019t have many transactions to record.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t care two bits about being bored. If they would pay me the regular fee to sit by their fire and eat their food and sleep in a decent bed, with laundry and a bathing room for good measure, I would willingly be bored at their expense.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to send my best five candidates,\u201d he went on, \u201cbut three already have work and can\u2019t give notice until next quarter day. The other is Rive, so you\u2019re a certainty.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed. Rive was a drunkard who hadn\u2019t worked at all for years. Tylk was a good friend to me.<\/p>\n

I wore my best clothes for the interview. They weren\u2019t any different from my second or third best clothes, just a little less shabby. My finest sealskin hat and gloves came out for the occasion.<\/p>\n

Outside, a wind heavy with sleet whipped around me, and I cursed my thin coat, which preserved my middle ranking respectability, but left me to freeze. If only I could spare the silver for a winter one.<\/p>\n

From Mistress Jast\u2019s house, I cut through the winding lanes of the lower cliff, an odd mixture of merchants\u2019 houses, craft shops and the occasional grander residence. As the way steepened, the houses became smaller, crammed in, a hodgepodge of styles, with windblown bushes instead of solid hedges or walls.<\/p>\n

I emerged on to level ground with a fine view over the town roofs and the bay beyond. Up here, the wind was fierce, lashing my coat around my legs. My hat was firmly pinned, but I put a hand to it anyway.<\/p>\n

A wide ledge had been carved out of the cliff half way up, and the Red Hold took up most of it. The building and its high wall were made from the same stone as the cliff, and were hard to see from below. It was easy to understand why a previous Holder had abandoned the unobtrusive spot for a new, more imposing, residence. A narrow path squeezed between the cliff edge and the wall, and then zigzagged up to join the shining road to the new Hold on the cliff top above.<\/p>\n

A wooden gate in the wall stood open and I went through. The house was directly in front of me, a squat box of red stone two storeys high with small windows and an iron-barred door. On one corner a square tower loomed. How I longed to live at the very top, almost as high as the cliff behind, and look out over the walls at that glorious view every day.<\/p>\n

A short path led to the front door. Before I reached it, I heard a commotion and the door crashed open. Two men in servants\u2019 clothes appeared, half carrying and half dragging another man who shrieked in protest. Behind them followed a woman, drably dressed, head down. I recognised her, though, and the man being dragged.<\/p>\n

\u201cBlessings to you, Mistress ab Rive,\u201d I murmured, as the raucous group passed me by. The woman glanced at me, nodded almost imperceptibly, and scurried after the others. I pitied her, going to all the trouble of getting her husband up here, only to have him thrown out. Drunk already, probably. Still, all the better for me. I was the last to be interviewed, and clearly none of the others had come up to scratch.<\/p>\n

I stepped through the open door into a vast galleried hall, furnished in the ornate style fashionable a hundred years ago. Two staircases wound upwards, and several doors led off into the interior. As I stood looking around, bemused, a woman in the uniform of a cook bustled out.<\/p>\n

\u201cAh! You be here about the geese?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, no.\u201d<\/p>\n

Without a word, she turned and vanished again. This was a strange house, but I supposed mages were strange people, so a little oddity was to be expected.<\/p>\n

The two men who had thrown Rive out came back, entering side by side and almost getting stuck in the door. Then they both tried to close the door at once, each trying to push the other aside. It was all I could do to smother my laughter.<\/p>\n

At last they turned their attention to me. Now that I could see them clearly, their uniforms were different. One was the house controller, but the other\u2019s garments were the wrong colour, and more flamboyant. Bennamorian.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I help you?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Before I could reply, the house controller said, \u201cYou must be Mistress Recorder Fen?\u201d I turned to him in relief. At last, someone who knew the proper form.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. I\u2019m here for an interview.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome this way,\u201d the two said simultaneously.<\/p>\n

They marched side by side in front of me down a long corridor, and threw open the double doors at the furthest end. It was fortunate that there was a door for each of them, otherwise they might have had another unseemly scuffle over it.<\/p>\n

The doors clicked shut behind me, and four faces looked up at me in surprise.<\/p>\n

Two were mages, identifiable by the brightly coloured tattoos on their foreheads. The father was perhaps sixty, with a haughty look. His dark hair was only slightly sprinkled with grey. The son was around thirty, already stout, with a round, bland face. They wore their hair long, almost to the shoulders, and were clean-shaven. I\u2019d expected colourful robes, but their clothes were more normal, although expensive and cut very full in the Bennamore style.<\/p>\n

The other two wore the armoured leather and tabards of professional soldiers. One was as tall and sturdy as a tree, and just as expressionless. His rumpled clothes, shaggy hair and stubbled chin made me wonder if he\u2019d just got out of bed. The other was a woman, shorter than I was, with broad freckled cheeks, and almost as muscular as the man.<\/p>\n

All four of them stared at me as if I were something dredged up from the depths of the ocean.<\/p>\n

The older mage coughed. \u201cI beg your pardon, but we are expecting someone for an interview.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, that\u2019s me.\u201d I fixed a cheerful smile on my face.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d He picked up a paper, and frowned. \u201cYou are\u2026 Fen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am.\u201d The smile was becoming rather a strain.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. I am not sure\u2014\u201d He glanced around at the others. \u201cWe were not expecting a woman.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fully qualified.\u201d The smile was definitely slipping now. They had a female guard, of all things, yet they were astonished at the idea of a female recorder? What kind of country was Bennamore anyway?<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure your qualifications are quite admirable\u2026 in every<\/em> respect,\u201d said the tall guard, looking me up and down with a distinct leer.<\/p>\n

A joker. Wonderful. I began to wonder if I wanted this job at all.<\/p>\n

The older mage tutted and waved me to a chair in front of a huge desk, seating himself behind it. The two guards moved round so that the woman stood behind me, while the tree was to one side. What possible threat they saw in me, I couldn\u2019t say. The younger mage maintained his post by the window, his nose slightly wrinkled, as if he were offended by some foul smell. Or me, perhaps.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am Lord Mage Losh and my son is Lord Mage Kael. You are\u2026 Fen?\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought we\u2019d established that. Maybe magic dulled the brain. \u201cThat is how you prefer to be addressed?\u201d I asked, trying to smile pleasantly. \u201cAs Lord Mage?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked astonished. \u201cIt is my official title, not a matter of liking, Fen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally? We don\u2019t have lords here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, we do in Bennamore!\u201d he snapped. \u201cIt is a matter of courtesy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen perhaps as a matter of courtesy you would care to use my official title, Lord Mage. I am Mistress Recorder Fen, or just Mistress Fen.\u201d I smiled a little wider.<\/p>\n

The mage fell silent, eyeing me warily as if he wasn\u2019t quite sure whether this was deliberately offensive or a clever joke. The younger mage looked at his father, his face a picture of bewilderment. The tree scratched his nose. No sign of intelligent life there at all.<\/p>\n

I waited. It was just as well to begin on the proper footing, so they understood my position fully. It would be fatal if they mistook me for a servant. There was always the risk they would be insulted and throw me out, but they couldn\u2019t conduct their business without me, so I felt safe enough.<\/p>\n

Sure enough, the older mage decided to be amused by my presumption. \u201cVery well, Mistress Recorder Fen. You are fully qualified, you say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have my details, I believe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, somewhere.\u201d He scuffled paper ineffectually about the desk. \u201cI have not had time to read everything yet. You are employed at the moment?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot at present, no. I am free to begin whenever you wish.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd why did you leave your previous employer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe – died.\u201d Best not to confuse them with details. As foreigners, they might not understand the social niceties of the Port Holdings.<\/p>\n

He made sympathetic noises. To my relief, he asked nothing more about it. We moved on to my years of experience, and I was trying to avoid revealing just how many different jobs I\u2019d held over those years, when there were sounds of an argument outside the door. I guessed it was the two doormen again.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour servants aren\u2019t quite settled, by the sound of things,\u201d I said, with another cheery smile.<\/p>\n

He sighed. \u201cThere are servants already here. It is most inconvenient. We are having trouble getting rid of them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, you can\u2019t,\u201d I said briskly. \u201cThey\u2019re part of the house, like the furniture. Much better to send your own back to Bennamore. You don\u2019t need them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can hardly do that, you know. We have always had our own people. Most awkward to live amongst strangers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that\u2019s how things are done here. You can keep a few personal servants – a cook or two, a dresser, your bodyguards. But you don\u2019t need two people to carry firewood, or pluck the geese, or open the door. If you leave everything to the house controller, the place will run as smoothly as a well-oiled wagon. You won\u2019t even see the servants.\u201d<\/p>\n

The older mage nodded slowly, digesting this. \u201cFen \u2014 Mistress Fen, I should like to engage you as a recorder, but I hope you will also undertake some special additional duties.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dragon\u2019s scales. Special duties? And we were getting along so well, too.<\/p>\n

I rose smartly to my feet. \u201cI bid you a good day, Lord Mage Losh. The law prescribes my role, no variation is permitted.\u201d One or two had hoped for special duties from me before, but none had suggested it quite so blatantly.<\/p>\n

He jumped up too, and rushed round the desk, his face filled with alarm. \u201cNo, no, no, I meant no insult, I assure you! I only hoped \u2014\u201d His hands waved about, as if to wipe out the perceived affront. \u201cMistress Fen, we are strangers here, alone in a foreign land. We know nothing of your ways. It would be most helpful if you could\u2026 advise us. Would that be contrary to your laws?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ah, that was all right. A surge of excitement raced through me, for this was working out better than I\u2019d dared to hope. I allowed myself to think with satisfaction of a blazing fire in my room whenever I wanted, and three hot meals a day. And a private bathing room. Such bliss.<\/p>\n

I inclined my head graciously. \u201cI believe that would be permissible. I\u2019m sure we can agree terms.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTerms? The fees are fixed, I am given to understand?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor my recording duties, Lord Mage. Any advice on local customs and so forth would be in addition, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh. I see. Very well. When can you start work, do you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can move in today, if you wish.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMove in?\u201d<\/p>\n

I sighed inwardly. Had the man read nothing of the required terms? \u201cA recorder always lives in the employer\u2019s house, Lord Mage.\u201d<\/p>\n

For a moment I hesitated, but if I didn\u2019t ask outright, they might not think of it. \u201cUnless you have other plans for the tower, I should prefer a suite there. I shall take all meals with the family. If you admit clients to the house, I must attend as well. If you leave the house in your professional capacity, I shall accompany you. This is to ensure you transact no business without my presence. As required by law.\u201d<\/p>\n

His mouth flapped open like a fish.<\/p>\n

I was tempted to laugh. \u201cThis is acceptable to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded, apparently unable to speak.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood. Perhaps you would like me to discuss the servant problem with the house controller for you? The sooner the better, you know. And have you given any orders for supper tonight? What do you like to eat?\u201d<\/p>\n

It was the son who answered. \u201cVenison. And some pigeon or pheasant or some such. I am sick of fish.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll arrange it. I shall see you at the noon table, Lord Mage Losh, Lord Mage Kael.\u201d<\/p>\n

And with that I swept out, triumphant.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

3: The Tower<\/strong><\/p>\n

The house controller\u2019s office was beside the front door, and it was the work of a few moments to pass on the mages\u2019 orders. The house controller looked exultant. His Bennamorian opposite number bowed and withdrew stiffly without a word.<\/p>\n

I asked to be shown to my room at the top of the tower. The controller bowed, and with no more than a score of words sent servants scurrying for linens, firewood, ewers of water and towels. He led the way with stately steps to a heavy wooden door with iron hinges, and up the narrow staircase beyond.<\/p>\n

By the time we had progressed to the top, there was quite a long procession of laden servants behind us, including two boys carrying large vases of flowers. Such attention to detail was admirable, although I had no idea where they found fresh flowers so early in the year. It was apparent I would be very comfortable here.<\/p>\n

The controller threw open the door, and I almost gasped in delight. With every new employer, I had asked for a suite, but they all had children and aunts and cousins, together with hordes of other hangers-on, making their houses as cramped as a beehive. The best I\u2019d ever managed was a small dressing room off the bedroom. Once, just once, I\u2019d had a private room for washing in.<\/p>\n

But this was a proper suite with its own entrance hall, a large sitting room, a bedroom almost as big, a smaller second bedroom, a sizeable dressing room lined with closets, and – oh joy! – my own bathing room, with a tub and valves and hot water pipes wide enough to hang towels on. I walked from room to room in a daze, as dust sheets were whisked away, curtains and shutters flung open, fires laid in both the larger rooms and the bed made up. I was so overjoyed I couldn\u2019t speak. It was perfect.<\/p>\n

When I came back into the sitting room, now smelling of apple-wood and spring blossoms and beeswax polish, I found the tree-like guard lounging against the door post, idly picking at his teeth. He watched me with amusement.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou must have a head for heights, wanting to live all the way up here,\u201d he drawled, his Bennamore accent strong. \u201cYou\u2019ll be like one of those fair ladies from the legends, locked up in towers by their fathers.\u201d<\/p>\n

His mouth quirked up at the corners. Was he flirting with me? What a nerve.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot very like,\u201d I said repressively. \u201cAt least I shall be able to come and go as I please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut alike in another way, I\u2019d say,\u201d he smirked. Was that a wink?<\/p>\n

I rolled my eyes. \u201cHave you no duties needing your attention, Master Guard? Or are you here to supervise the removal of dust sheets?\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed and walked further into the room, plucking a small pink flower from a vase. \u201cI came to see what the attraction was in this dank old tower, but now that the fires are lit, I begin to get the point.\u201d One arm swept around to encompass the whole room.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe attraction is over there.\u201d I pointed to the window.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe view?\u201d He strode across the room, his long legs reaching the window in a few strides. \u201cAh! The whole bay. But what is that building there?\u201d He beamed innocently at me.<\/p>\n

I sighed. I knew what he was doing, of course, but I didn\u2019t want to be rude to someone who could influence my employers. Not yet, anyway. \u201cThat is the light tower. It shines a lantern on dark nights to keep ships from smashing onto the rocks below. And now, even if you have nothing better to do than admire the ocean, I do.\u201d<\/p>\n

He made a deep bow, and ushered me towards the stairs. \u201cLet me not keep you from your appointed tasks, fair lady.\u201d<\/p>\n

With a lascivious grin, he tucked the flower behind my ear.<\/p>\n

It was all I could do not to slap him.<\/p>\n

~~~~~<\/p>\n

That day\u2019s noon table was the finest meal I\u2019d enjoyed in years. Master Krend had always kept a generous table, but not imaginative. We\u2019d lived on fish, fish and more fish, with greasy pork stews and thin soups. Roast meat was only for festivals. The mages, bless them, liked a wider array of food, and plenty of it. There was boiled chicken, cold duck legs, potted and smoked beef, several kinds of eggs, cheeses and three kinds of bread. And fish, of course, but that wasn\u2019t unusual enough to be interesting. It was all cold, since the kitchens were still in disarray, but I didn\u2019t care about that.<\/p>\n

There were seven of us at table. Apart from the two mages, the guards and me, there were two other men there. One was older, with stringy reddish hair, his attention all on the mages.<\/p>\n

The other man was younger, perhaps my age, dark haired and wiry, and made straight for me. \u201cThe Blessings of the Goddess to you, Mistress.\u201d He touched his chin respectfully.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are from the Holdings?\u201d I couldn\u2019t keep the surprise out of my voice. He wore the same style of clothes as the others, his hair was long and his face as beardless as a child\u2019s. He even spoke with a Bennamore accent.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, from Dellonar, but my family worked the trade routes and I settled in Yannitore when I met Lenya.\u201d He indicated the female guard.<\/p>\n

\u201cYannitore?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe very pleasant town we all come from.\u201d The tall guard appeared at my shoulder.<\/p>\n

Somewhere in Bennamore, then. I wondered why they left it at all, if it was so pleasant.<\/p>\n

While we ate, I said next to nothing, paying no attention to them. They were self-consciously cheerful at first, but after a while they forgot I was there and relaxed, and I learned something about them.<\/p>\n

The older mage, Losh, was clearly the leader. The others quieted when he spoke and listened respectfully. No one disagreed with him. The younger mage said nothing and was ignored. The other older man seldom spoke, but Losh took notice of his opinions.<\/p>\n

Lenya, the female guard, chattered incessantly to the Holdings man, who smiled and laughed at every little joke, leaning in towards her. The tree-like guard seldom spoke, occasionally asking how I liked the food, or reaching something for me. But when the meal was finished and the others drifted away from the table, he slid his chair nearer to mine.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you like an apple, fair lady?\u201d With a wolfish grin he twirled one hand and unfurled his fingers to reveal the fruit, wrinkled but enticingly red.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t want to encourage him, but the fruit was so tempting. \u201cI \u2014 Thank you, Master Guard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMallaron. Or just Mal, if you prefer.\u201d<\/p>\n

I concentrated on cutting the apple. So white and juicy inside, so delicious. When had I last eaten fresh fruit? And at this time of year, too. I crunched each piece, then licked the juice from my lips, not wanting to waste a drop.<\/p>\n

When I looked his way again, he was grinning inanely at me. I suppose my enjoyment amused him. I didn\u2019t care. There is a simple pleasure in good food, and I wasn\u2019t ashamed of my indulgence.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, fair lady, you have been observing us for an hour. Do you have us sorted out?\u201d His voice was low enough not to be overheard.<\/p>\n

I said nothing, mopping up the apple juice on my plate with bread.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t wait for an answer. \u201cLord Mage Losh and Corsell are lovers, I expect you spotted that. Corsell is also his dresser. They\u2019ve been together for years. Lord Mage Kael is unattached, but I don\u2019t recommend you try your luck there. He\u2019s – strange<\/em>.\u201d He lowered his voice, although it was already low enough not to be overheard. \u201cFortunately for you, I am also unattached, and available for any kind of affair you may desire, short or long.\u201d He grinned at me, but I ignored him. \u201cAnd Lenya is married to Wornest, one of your people.\u201d<\/p>\n

That forced a response from me. \u201cHardly! He\u2019s from Dellonar.\u201d I wrinkled my nose.<\/p>\n

His eyes lit up with glee. \u201cOh, tell me all! What\u2019s wrong with the place?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s lawless, full of drunken miners. The civilised Port Holdings are from Shannamar to Greet Bay, and not beyond.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about Bennamore? Is that civilised?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou rose against a peaceful ally with an army, Master Guard. You tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled at me and nodded, but made no response.<\/p>\n

~~~~~<\/p>\n

I had no trouble settling into the Red Hold. I was allowed fires in my rooms day and night, and I woke each morning to find the girl had already crept in to build a good blaze. Once the kitchens settled down, there was hot food on the table for every meal, and roast meat in the evening. I bathed twice a day in my own tub. It was blissful.<\/p>\n

There was no work yet for the mages. They had put out the word that their powers could be purchased for silver – healings and blessings, apparently – but so far there were no takers.<\/p>\n

With no transactions to record, I had little to do. The two mages could read and write perfectly well, so I was not needed for secretarial work. I spent an hour each morning with them, educating them in Holding ways, or explaining our history and laws.<\/p>\n

The younger one blinked at me vacantly. The older one listened and asked penetrating questions. He had read my details in full now, and wanted to know all about my time in Carrinshar. He asked about my previous life, naturally, but I closed down that line of inquiry very quickly.<\/p>\n

I asked why it was that Bennamore had sent mages to Carrinshar, one of the smallest and least important Holdings. The older mage laughed at the question.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere is a road that leads directly south from Riverbend to Carrinshar, one of the few paved roads between Bennamore and the coast. Never underestimate the importance of a good road, Fen.\u201d<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t quite agree with him there. Give me a sturdy ship, and I\u2019d take the sea and rivers over his good roads any day. Everywhere of importance could be reached by water. But I didn\u2019t want to argue the point.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere will be mages in every coastal town, in time, but we have to start somewhere, would you not agree?\u201d He beamed at me, and I smiled obediently back.<\/p>\n

He seemed a benevolent old man, but he was abrupt with the servants, and querulous when anything was amiss. Used to his own way, I guessed. He kept his claws hidden with me, but I was careful not to upset him. As to the younger mage, I wasn\u2019t sure there was anything to hide. His habitual expression was bored blankness, varied by hand-wringing anxiety if anything out of the ordinary occurred. I set him down as simple. Hardly surprising in a man of thirty still trailing in his father\u2019s wake.<\/p>\n

Apart from these teaching sessions, my time was my own. I soon learned the routine of the household. The Bennamorians kept very regular hours, so it wasn\u2019t difficult to predict where they would be at any given hour. The servants\u2019 schedule was even more rigid. During part of each day, I was free to prowl around unobserved, exploring. It was the best part of a new job, finding out all the secret hiding places.<\/p>\n

Some were obvious: the mages kept their money locked away in a cupboard built into the massive desk in the study, but I left that alone for now. The older mage had a smaller box in his bedroom. The lock yielded easily to my fingers, but the contents were disappointing. Only a few pieces of cheap jewelry, some letters, which I didn\u2019t read, a feather and several dried flowers.<\/p>\n

Surprisingly, the tall guard had a huge box in a corner of his bedroom, secured with a complex lock and screwed firmly to the floor. I couldn\u2019t get into it, though. Not because the lock defeated me, but because he\u2019d piled spare shields and armoured leather gear and mail and the Goddess knows what else on top of it, all haphazardly stacked. There was no possibility of opening it silently or quickly.<\/p>\n

There was nothing else of interest to me in the Bennamorians\u2019 rooms. Naturally, I never went near the servants\u2019 quarters in the basement; only the wealthier inhabitants interested me.<\/p>\n

Once I\u2019d been all over the house, the only option left was the gardens, unusually extensive for a Holding house. This had been the home of the earliest Holders at Carrinshar, who had lived surrounded by their soldiers, the Defenders, just as now. The high walls had once sheltered an armed encampment, complete with slaughter herds and stables, brewery and bakery, armoury, smithy and barracks, all the necessities of a defensive existence. There were extensive cellars for storage, and the usual escape tunnels, in this case running into the cliff, so it was said. They were seldom needed these days, for the Port Holdings no longer conducted wars against neighbours, but every Hold still had its escape routes.<\/p>\n

All the outbuildings were long gone, and now the house was surrounded by pleasant gardens, filled with herbs and aromatic shrubs and orchards. It was pleasant to stroll along the meandering pathways, sheltered from the chill southern wind, and imagine the beauty of the shrubbery in summer or the fruitfulness of the orchard in autumn.<\/p>\n

Quite often my peaceful walk was disturbed by the two guards, who trained with fierce determination, chasing each other along the paths at great speed, or firing arrows at targets with focused precision. Occasionally the clash of metal betrayed their sword practice, and they would attack each other with surprising ferocity, as if they were mortal enemies. Afterwards, the helmets were hurled aside, and they clapped each other on the shoulder and laughed, the best of friends.<\/p>\n

It was many years since I\u2019d watched swordsmen training. I was surprised how much I remembered of the art. These two were less skilled than Defenders, of course, and they used a coarser weapon. Even so, they displayed surprising agility and speed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI saw you watching us training, fair lady,\u201d the tall guard said one day as we sat down at table. \u201cYou pretended to be examining those bushes with the pink leaves, but really you were admiring my skill at arms.\u201d He leaned close to me so that his words were barely above a whisper.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally, I was not.\u201d I leaned away.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdmiring your skill? No. You are quick on your feet, certainly, but you favour your right side too much. You\u2019d be helpless against a left-handed opponent.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd how many of those are there in the world?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the world? Not so many, perhaps. But here in the Holdings, boys who favour their left arm are specially selected for the Defenders, and make up half the numbers. Defenders train in groups of four, two left-handed and two right-handed. I\u2019m surprised you didn\u2019t know that, Master Guard.\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyebrows lifted, but he said nothing more. It would be nice to think I\u2019d silenced him permanently, but I had no such expectation.<\/p>\n

~~~~~<\/p>\n

I was in the garden one day, when one of the kitchen boys raced out to find me. \u201cQuick! You\u2019re wanted right now, see!\u201d<\/p>\n

I found the mages in a fluster of excitement. A message had come from the harbour-master. A child of the household was sick, and could the mages come and see if they could do anything to help? I was almost as excited as they were. Finally, I would get to see them perform their little tricks. I was avid to find out how it worked. An incantation, I guessed, and maybe a bit of hand-waving. Dancing, even. Perhaps there would be smoke, or coloured scarves, or aromatic oils.<\/p>\n

I went for my badge of office and recording box. When I returned to the entrance hall, the mages were dressed in flowing robes in a deep green colour. The older one carried a carved wooden staff, and the younger one had a heavy stone in one hand. Their magical accoutrements, I suppose. It was all I could do not to laugh.<\/p>\n

Then the guards arrived, strapping on swords, with long knives attached to their belts.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no, no!\u201d I said, hands raised in alarm. \u201cYou can\u2019t go outside like that!\u201d<\/p>\n

The tall guard raised an eyebrow. \u201cLike what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSwords – knives – you can\u2019t walk round brandishing weapons like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t intend to brandish them if we can help it, but we\u2019d be fairly useless guards without them. It\u2019s our job to protect the mages when they go out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProtect them from what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFrom anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

The older mage smiled, eyebrows lifted. \u201cI am sure our ways are odd to you, Fen, but this is how we do things. You will get used to the idea.\u201d<\/p>\n

I clucked my tongue at him. \u201cIt\u2019s not a matter of getting used to it, Lord Mage. The robes – well, I suppose I may eventually get used to that. But swords\u2014 only the Defenders are allowed to walk through the Holding wearing a sword, or any kind of sharp weapon. Even the Watchers only carry a club. That\u2019s the law.\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head sorrowfully. \u201cAnd our<\/em> law says that every mage must be accompanied by a guard equipped with a sword when outside the mages\u2019 house. That is Bennamore law.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is not Bennamore!\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighed. \u201cYes, it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a long silence. I couldn\u2019t believe they would be so brazen as to walk down to the harbour openly wearing swords. They could see nothing wrong with it. I suppose they were right, in a way. This was a part of Bennamore now, so their laws took precedence. Perhaps.<\/p>\n

\u201cVery well,\u201d I said, fastening my coat tightly. \u201cLet the responsibility be yours. I have advised you. I can do no more than that.\u201d<\/p>\n

The tall guard opened the door and led the way outside.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

4: A Healing<\/strong><\/p>\n

A sleety wind nipped at us as soon as we left the shelter of the walls. The mages\u2019 green robes were not the flimsy silk I was expecting, but they were not heavy enough to withstand the gusts. Since they were open at the front, they quickly flapped free and then tangled themselves like wet sheets. The mages made no complaint, walking in file down the path, one guard in front and one behind. I trotted along at the rear, envying the guards their armoured leather, thick boots and heavy woollen cloaks. The wind was no bother to them. I pulled my coat more tightly around me.<\/p>\n

We snaked down the hill into the town, gradually reaching the larger houses, and onto the main road winding down to the harbour. Here, for the first time, we encountered others out and about, and our little procession drew some attention. Passers-by stopped to stare at us, and whispered behind their hands. A group of workers busily repainting windows set down their brushes and stood, arms folded, to watch us pass, their expressions unfriendly. The mages sailed on, taking no notice.<\/p>\n

Sheep and goats filled the market square today. The farmers stopped their haggling to gawk as we skirted the packed animal pens and avoided escaped chickens. It was unfortunate that the herring fleet was in, too. The quays were busy and crowds loitered outside the bars and soup houses. One or two drunks jeered at us. \u201cGo back to Bennamore!\u201d one shouted. \u201cWe don\u2019t want no wizards here!\u201d<\/p>\n

I will give the mages credit, they showed not the slightest nervousness or hesitation. They sailed through the confusion with great dignity, ignoring the rabble. Even so, I was very glad to reach the harbour-master\u2019s house, and not just for the welcome warmth.<\/p>\n

While the mages consulted with the child\u2019s mother, the rest of us huddled round a fire blazing in the centre of the entrance hall.<\/p>\n

The tree-like guard inched round to stand beside me. \u201cYou look blue with cold, fair lady. Don\u2019t you have a cloak?\u201d<\/p>\n

Goddess, the man was annoying.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a recorder,\u201d I snapped. \u201cI don\u2019t expect to trail round the streets. Only outdoor workers wear cloaks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps you need a thicker coat, then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow observant of you. I\u2019ll be sure to consider that when I get my salary next quarter day. It might be enough for me to buy a sleeve.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed, thinking I was joking, but decent clothing was expensive. I hated handing over my earnings to a smug tailor who sat about with a needle all day, bitching about what an awkward skinny shape I was, and how difficult to clothe. And then they took forever to do the work they were paid for. Still, if the mages were going to make a habit of visiting their clients, I would need a winter coat, and that would mean plundering my savings.<\/p>\n

\u201cMistress Recorder?\u201d The harbour-master drew me to a quiet corner, looking askance at the guards with their swords. I\u2019d never met him before, for he was far above my station, but he was much as I\u2019d expected; a weather-worn, middle-aged man, with the waist-length beard of a sea captain.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan they do what they say, these people?\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have no idea. I\u2019ve not seen them perform yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a lot of money. They want three rounds in advance, but they don\u2019t guarantee anything. I mean, with the herbalist, at least you can see what you\u2019re getting, even if it doesn\u2019t work. These people – these mages – they just say some words\u2026 a spell, they call it. But anyone can say words, can\u2019t they?\u201d He stroked his thick beard. \u201cWe\u2019ve been burning candles to the Goddess and saying all the healing prayers ever since the poor child took ill. I don\u2019t see what these people can do that\u2019s any different. But my sister\u2019s distraught\u2026 her only child, and her husband went to the depths three years ago. We have to try everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t know what to say to him. I had the same misgivings, the same suspicion of trickery. Expensive trickery, at that. Three rounds! That was a third of a year\u2019s salary for me. A sailor would never have so much coin in his hand.<\/p>\n

The harbour-master led us into his office to make the payment, just the two mages and me. He insisted that the guards wait in the entrance hall. He unlocked his coin box and placed three silver rounds on the desk, and three copper bits next to them.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are those for?\u201d It was the first time the younger mage had spoken since we left the Red Hold. \u201cThree silvers, that is the deal.\u201d I\u2019d never seen him so alert.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe recorder\u2019s fee,\u201d the harbour-master answered patiently. \u201cShe gets one bit for every round.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat is so, Kael,\u201d said the older mage. \u201cIt is all in the contract.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe pay her a salary. Why does she get a transaction fee as well?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat is just how it is. The client pays it, not us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kael grunted, looking suspiciously at me, as if this were some devious scheme I\u2019d invented. Then he swept the three bits off the table and dropped them into my hand, closing my fingers around them with clammy hands. The silvers were dropped into his own leather purse, deftly retied and tucked away again.<\/p>\n

I would never have suspected he was the money man of the family.<\/p>\n

It took a few minutes for me to write the transaction into my new book. The mage and I signed it, then the harbour-master added his mark.<\/p>\n

Back in the entrance hall, the harbour-master indicated a door. \u201cThe child\u2019s room is through this way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can wait here, Fen,\u201d the older mage said. \u201cYour job is finished now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to observe the transaction in full. To ensure that the client receives the agreed item.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighed. \u201cVery well. But say nothing, you understand? This requires concentration, we cannot have distractions. None of you must speak once we are at work. Allow me to talk to the child freely, and do not interrupt.\u201d His gaze swept over the harbour-master and his sister. They nodded, eyes wide. They\u2019d just paid a great deal of money for this, they were hardly likely to disrupt the occasion.<\/p>\n

The door led to a dark corridor, which, after several turns, brought us to a cramped rear quarter of the building. Several servants huddling outside the child\u2019s room were shooed away before we went in.<\/p>\n

It was a tiny room, stuffy and gloomy, for the curtains were shut fast. A brazier burned fitfully. Three low pallets lined the walls, but only one was occupied. All I could see was a froth of yellow hair and a curled-up lump under the blankets.<\/p>\n

The older mage chased out three women weeping in a corner. He strode across the room and flung open the curtains. Next he opened the window. A gale howled in, bringing flurries of snow, so he adjusted it to stay open a crack. The sick child made a noise and rolled over to face the wall.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe light is painful for her,\u201d the mother whispered. She knelt down beside the child. \u201cLucinna? Lucinna, my sweet, someone is here to help you. He\u2019s going to place his hands on you and then you\u2019ll be all better. Won\u2019t that be lovely?\u201d<\/p>\n

The child said nothing. The older mage knelt down on the floor and spoke to her with surprising gentleness. I\u2019d set him down as arrogant, like all the Bennamore folk, not a man much used to lowering himself to be kind. But if he thought himself a healer, perhaps it was a part of the job. And who knew, maybe such gentleness was enough to effect a cure in some patients? That could be the source of his reputation.<\/p>\n

After a while, the child turned onto her back, although her eyes were still screwed up against the light. She was pale as death, with the slick sheen of fever on her skin. With his staff in one hand, the mage laid the other on her damp forehead and sat motionless, head bowed, eyes closed, for many minutes. At length he rose again.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you mind if my esteemed colleague tries too? He is learning the skill, and the experience would be most beneficial.\u201d<\/p>\n

The mother nodded her assent, and the younger mage, Kael, repeated the whole ritual, holding his stone sphere. The child lay unmoving the whole time. Nothing seemed to happen.<\/p>\n

The older mage began a long chant. I couldn\u2019t even tell what language it was. Some words seemed familiar, but there was a lot that I couldn\u2019t get at all. And the rhythm was queer, oddly staccato. Then he knelt down and went through the whole eyes closed business again.<\/p>\n

Getting to his feet, he smiled. \u201cAll done. She will improve now. Good day to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Well, that was dull, to be sure. No lights or smoke or dancing. No indication that anything had happened at all. I could see the astonishment on the mother\u2019s face as the mages left the room.<\/p>\n

She rushed across to the child. \u201cLucinna? What happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

A sliver of a voice. \u201cIt was warm. Inside.\u201d A tiny cough. But no sign of the fever abating.<\/p>\n

I caught up with the mages in the entrance hall. \u201cThat\u2019s it? Did it work?\u201d<\/p>\n

The older one nodded solemnly. \u201cI believe there was some improvement, yes. Magic is not just fireballs and lightning, Fen. It is far more subtle than that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Of course it is, old man. Just keep paying me and I\u2019ll keep going along with that. I caught a glimpse of the harbour-master\u2019s face. He shrugged and rolled his eyes. He was as cynical as I was.<\/p>\n

The harbour-master shuffled us outside as quickly as was decent, and shut the door on us. We stood on the step, blinking in the soft-falling snow.<\/p>\n

At once I was aware of the change. The crowds were much thicker now, encircling us. All the usual market-day bustle had coalesced here, around the harbour-master\u2019s house. Word of our presence had spread and the hostility was palpable.<\/p>\n

As we emerged, a low rumble emanated from them, like thunder. The mages took a few paces forward, and then stopped, uncertain. The way we\u2019d come, the road up the hill, was filled with people. The guards moved to the front, eyes scanning the mob. Lenya rested one hand on her sword hilt.<\/p>\n

I tugged at the tall guard\u2019s arm. \u201cUp to the left. The Hold road is clear.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan we get home that way?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s a path, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n

He muttered some instructions to the others and slowly we made our way towards the white-paved road. We had to pass a group of bars, their patrons spilling onto the road, but beyond that the way was clear.<\/p>\n

At first it seemed we would be allowed to pass unmolested. The murmur rose to a roar. Amidst the tumult I heard, \u201cGo back to Bennamore!\u201d and \u201cNone of your trickery here!\u201d But the crowd parted before us and closed in again behind. Step by cautious step we moved forward, although my thumping heart refused to quieten. The end of the buildings was in sight and beyond that the white road shone, empty and safe. I breathed a little easier.<\/p>\n

The older mage was serene, as calm as if this were just a pleasure stroll, but the young one, Kael, was jittery, muttering under his breath and turning his sphere device round and round in his hands. The guards were stony-faced, eyes flicking back and forth, cloaks pushed back so they could draw their weapons with ease. I skittered along in their wake, blinking the snow out of my eyes.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know what happened, but something changed. Maybe one of the watching crowd took exception to something about us. Maybe they were simply spoiling for a fight. Whatever it was, one of them threw something and within seconds we were in the midst of a storm, as hurled gravel from the road rained down on us. The noise was deafening. A pebble caught my cheek, and I gasped at the stab of pain.<\/p>\n

The guards drew their swords in unison with a blood-chilling yell, and pushed the two mages behind them. The crowd fell back a little, jumping out of the way of their swords as they prowled round, then closing back in after they passed.<\/p>\n

In the confusion, I found myself outside the sweeping swords. Hands reached for me, pulling me into the crowd. Now the shouts and jeers were all around me, voices shrieked in my ear, elbows thumped me, I was pushed this way and that. I clutched my recorder\u2019s box like a shield. I think I screamed.<\/p>\n

Then the tall guard loomed over me, his face a mask. He yelled at the mob, waving his sword, and they jumped aside. Grabbing my arm, he dragged me over to the two mages. He shouted something at me, but I couldn\u2019t make it out. He turned away to the mob.<\/p>\n

Kael shook from head to foot, eyes almost popping out of his head. His father had hold of his arm, trying to calm him. He shook himself free and a great roar burst from him, louder and louder, until I thought my head would burst.<\/p>\n

His arms shot forward, one hand clutching the stone sphere, the other outstretched, fingers wiggling.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d shrieked his father.<\/p>\n

Too late. Great sheets of flame shot from Kael\u2019s fingers, leaping thirty feet or more, passing barely above the heads of the crowd.<\/p>\n

Instantly, there was chaos. Screaming, smoke rising, arms frantically waving, the all-pervading smell of burning. The mob scrambled away from us, tripping over each other, men grabbing women, women pulling children, crying, yelling, running. They poured over the Hold road, blocking it, but for an instant the way up the hill was clear.<\/p>\n

\u201cRun!\u201d yelled the guards in unison.<\/p>\n

We ran.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

1: A Death The day before my fortieth birthday, my employer killed himself. It was expected, naturally. No ship owner could lose his entire fleet to the waves without paying the price of failure, no matter that the fleet comprised a single ship. Master Krend had to do what was proper, or lose all his rank, leaving his family destitute. It wasn\u2019t his fault his only ship had foundered in a storm. He didn\u2019t deserve to die, but that was the way things were done in the Port Holdings. Everything had been prepared. Master Krend had already sent his younger children away. He had been measured for his shroud. He had dictated the notifications of his death to me, my last and most distressing duty as his recorder. Now he had carried out his own last duty. The only person at all surprised was the kitchen girl, who came up […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[61],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1461"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1461"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1461\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1467,"href":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1461\/revisions\/1467"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1461"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1461"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/paulinemross.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1461"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}