The High Priest and the Idol Read online

  No matter how well she fulfilled her role as guildmaster, no matter how hard she worked, no matter what her abilities, some would always be convinced that she had only reached her current position because she was Jemeryl’s lover. The slur was all the more annoying because the senior mercenary guildmasters were just as untrusting of the Coven as everyone else. Tevi knew that a significant faction in the guild had tried to block her appointment in Horzt purely because of her link with Jemeryl.

  Her link with Jemeryl.

  As the words slipped into her head, the irritation with her subordinates was shunted aside. Currently, something was wrong with the link, and she did not know what or why. Tevi went to the window and leaned against the frame, staring south towards Kradja—not that she could see anything of note, and certainly nothing that might give her the answers she needed. What was happening to Jemeryl?

  A knock roused her from the brooding. Without turning her head she called, “Yes?”

  She heard the door open. “Please, ma’am, Thaldo wants to see you right away.”

  “I’m coming.” Tevi pushed away from the wall and marched from the room. She could only hope that the deputising town sorcerer had something new to tell her.

  Thaldo was in Jemeryl’s study—his study, until her return. He seemed nervous and disorganised, but this was his normal state. “Tevirik, I think I…er…thanks for coming…um, yes.”

  Tevi got to the point. “Have you worked out what’s wrong with Klara?”

  Five days before, when Tevi had returned to her room, she had found the magpie unconscious on the floor. Despite the absence of any detectable injury or illness, Klara had shown no sign of waking. Tevi’s only comfort was that Jemeryl was definitely alive, and not under the influence of something strong enough to break the bond between sorcerer and familiar. If all contact was lost, Klara would act like a wild magpie, rather than lie comatose.

  Thaldo sidled over to where Klara lay on a cushion, surrounded by a circle of crystals. “Um…The familiar is completely healthy, and the link to Jemeryl appears strong. There’s no distortion of the sort I’d expect if Jemeryl was wearing an iron collar or…something like that. And if she was seriously ill, I ought to be able to pick up a taint in the ether.”

  Tevi sighed. As sorcerers went, Thaldo was easy enough to get along with. From the start, he had treated Tevi with a politeness verging on deference, very unlike the autocratic disdain she had anticipated. Tevi guessed he was in his early twenties, and although juvenile sorcerers could be the most conceited of the lot, in Thaldo, inexperience translated into a lack of confidence. He was also manifestly well meaning. Tevi knew the crystals around Klara were to promote healing, but she was fairly sure the small silver balls on the cushion had no magical function, but were Thaldo’s idea of a nice get well soon present for a magpie. He might be surprised if he ever got to hear Klara’s opinion of them.

  However, Thaldo’s agitated dithering was a strain on Tevi’s patience. A show of confidence would have helped ease her fears, even if it was an act. His habit of telling her things she already knew was also irritating. The report on Klara was identical to the one he had been giving her for the previous three days.

  “What’s happened? Why did you send for me?”

  “Oh, I…” Thaldo jerked his head towards a bookcase where a carrier pigeon was perched. “I’ve just received a reply from Lyremouth.”

  “And? Do they know anything?”

  “I don’t think so. But they, um…didn’t say much.”

  “No one has seen anything like it before?”

  Thaldo shook his head. “They didn’t say.”

  “And there’s no news about Jem?”

  “I don’t know. Er…They wouldn’t…”

  Tevi turned away, until she had got her anger under control. It was not Thaldo’s fault. “Let me guess. They said it was totally inappropriate for Jem to be in contact with an ungifted warrior, and they weren’t going to do anything to encourage her sordid behaviour. If they had any information about Jem, they wouldn’t dream of giving it to you to pass on. And in future, you and most definitely me should not stick our noses into places they have no right to be.”

  Thaldo swallowed audibly. “They weren’t quite that…um…”

  “I gave the unedited version. They may have been a bit less blunt in the wording, but it’s what they meant.” Tevi walked to the cushion and stared down at the unconscious magpie.

  The last time Tevi had spoken to Jemeryl was nine days ago, just after she had left Villenes. Assuming the journey had gone to plan, Jemeryl should now be in Kradja. Over twenty days would be needed to get from Horzt to Lyremouth and the journey on to Kradja would be at least as long again. Allowing for delays on the road, she was unlikely to be in Kradja in much under fifty days. She would be far too late to help with any crisis—even if whatever had caused Klara to collapse was something an ungifted warrior might be the slightest help with. Anything that could overcome a sorcerer was unlikely to be vulnerable to swords and arrows. Yet there was no way that Tevi could stay where she was and do nothing.

  “I’m going after her.”

  “Are you sure? I’d…”

  Tevi glanced up. Thaldo appeared to be on the point of tears. “What?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “I can’t just sit here waiting.”

  “I understand. But the…d-d-dragons.” On the last word, his composure failed completely.

  “They’ve never been anywhere near Horzt, and now Revozik has them moving even further away.”

  “I know, but I…I mean, I can’t. And you…” Thaldo was clearly terrified of dragons. Did this explain his bashfulness towards her?

  “I’d be no use if they came here anyway.”

  “But you’ve flown on one.”

  “Only because it wanted me to do it a favour.” Tevi’s words were not helping. She could see it in Thaldo’s eyes. Anyone who dragons called on for help was clearly formidable. “It was a one-off thing. If it met me now it would eat me, just like it would anyone else.” Another bad choice of words. “I’m no more useful to you than any other mercenary. Jem and I have been partners for twelve years. I have to go after her.”

  Thaldo nodded, clearly unconvinced. “I suppose so.”

  “I’ll want to be off as soon as—” Tevi stopped. Her contract with the town council to lead the watch still had months to run. Yet breaking a contract was one of the worst offences a member of the Guild of Mercenary Warriors could commit. “I’ll need to sort out about the town watch. Maybe I can…” Tevi bit her lip. Would they let her buy herself out? What other options did she have?

  Thaldo cleared his throat. “If you’re really sure about going, and um…I could give you a dispensation, since I’m leader of the council…as it were. And I’ll take care of Klara for you.” Thaldo still looked sick, but he managed a weak smile.

  “Thanks.”

  For a neurotic sorcerer, Thaldo was not a bad man.

  *

  There were no two ways about it, the gatekeeper was sneering at her as he said, “I’ll pass your message on to the relevant people.”

  Judging by the man’s manner, the message might get passed on late next year, if he felt like it, and the relevant person would be someone writing a book titled Stupid grunts who’ve shown up at the Coven.

  Tevi took a step back and looked up. She knew the tallest tower was where the Guardian could be found. She also knew that her chances of getting in were slightly worse than non-existent. This was her third attempt to find out information about Jemeryl, and it was going no better than the previous two.

  The buildings that housed the central administration of the Coven were on the edge of the city of Lyremouth. The complex had clearly grown without planning. A jumble of size and scale meant it was nothing to look at, but as someone had once said to her, “When you’re as important as the Coven, you don’t have to resort to fancy brickwork to impress people.”

  Eve
n the name gatekeeper was more of a traditional title than a factual one. There were no gates, and no wall for them to sit in. The Coven did not need them to keep out the unwanted, and Tevi knew better than to attempt to force her way in.

  She tried one last appeal, to see if a hint of a threat would work. “Look, I know I’m just an ordinary citizen, and you think I’ve got no right to claim any sort of bond with a sorcerer like Jemeryl. That’s your opinion, and you’ve got as much right to it as anyone else. But it’s only your opinion, and the person who really counts here is Jemeryl. Because she’s not going to be pleased at you trying to impose your views onto her life. Judging by the orange amulet I see on your arm, you’re just a junior witch. Do you seriously want to upset a sorcerer?”

  The gatekeeper flushed, clearly annoyed at having an ungifted citizen belittle his status, but the set of his jaw did not change. “Maybe Jemeryl is a sorcerer. But she’s not the Guardian, is she?”

  His words confirmed what Tevi had suspected. She doubted Alendy would have demeaned himself by giving specific instructions about someone as insignificant as herself. Admitting that he was aware of who she was would make her seem far too important. However, the gatekeeper clearly knew he would have Alendy’s approval in denying her entrance, or any sort of assistance.

  Tevi gave the gatekeeper one last angry glare and then stalked away between the avenue of trees to join the main road into Lyremouth. She would have to try something different.

  Before Jemeryl left Lyremouth, she had told Tevi that her old mentor was the person to rely on in any difficulty. Tevi suspected that a request from her to meet Iralin would get no more favourable a response from the gatekeeper. But it would be a different matter if Iralin was the one doing the asking. Nobody with any sense would dare say no. Tevi looked back over her shoulder and smiled. In fact, she half hoped the gatekeeper would defy Iralin. It would be fun to see what sort of state he ended up in.

  After her previous two failed attempts, Tevi had come prepared. Once on the road and out of sight of the gatekeeper she pulled the folded sheet of paper from her pocket.

  Madam Iralin

  Some years ago you kindly helped me with problems caused by the inadequate disposal of a basilisk’s head. Although your intervention at the time resolved the matter, I am still bothered by the longer term issues, particularly those relating to separation of the elements that had been combined following your instructions.

  I wonder if you could be so good as to render further assistance. If you are willing, please send word to my normal residence in Lyremouth.

  Yours gratefully

  Wess Tanaislanda

  Tevi smiled. She was sure Iralin would understand, and she was equally sure the gatekeeper would not, even if he should chance to see the letter. All she needed was a courier. Luckily, a suitable candidate appeared within minutes.

  The emblem on the girl’s cloak marked her as a Coven apprentice. She was sauntering into the grounds and clearly in no hurry, therefore more likely to listen to an appeal.

  Tevi adopted a stoop before hailing her, half hiding behind a tree. “Excuse me, ma’am.”

  “What is it?”

  Tevi shuffled forward, casting nervous glances towards the buildings. “I’ve got a letter to deliver.”

  “And?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “The…the…in the Coven.” Tevi ducked her head. Irrational fear of sorcerers was not uncommon and could cause people to act in odd ways. The rational fear was bad enough. “This letter’s from my mistress. She sent me with it, but please, ma’am, I don’t want to go in there.”

  The girl delivered a scornful look. “I shouldn’t think you’d be let in if you asked. You can pass your letter to the gatekeeper. He’ll see it’s delivered.”

  “I don’t want to go no closer. Please, ma’am, could you help me?” Tevi held out the sheet, taking care to keep her palm upward so that the girl would not see the mercenary tattoo on the back.

  The girl sighed dramatically and took the note. She cast her eyes over it. “It’s for Iralin?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll see that she gets it.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. You’re so kind.”

  *

  Eight years had passed since Tevi last walked the streets of Lyremouth. It had not changed. The city fascinated and repelled her in equal amounts, much as it had when she first arrived, an exile from the Western Isles. So much was alien to her, although less than it had been back then. Yet despite everything that still jarred, the lure was strong, to find an anonymous corner where she felt safe and call it home, as thousands had done before her.

  The hub of the Protectorate was a study in contrasts. Both wealth and poverty were conspicuous in their blatant crassness. The dense maze of narrow alleys was cut by wide, tree-lined thoroughfares converging on a hundred squares and plazas. One moment Tevi was battling through the throng while a cacophony of street vendors competed to sell every conceivable produce. A dozen steps later and an unexpected public garden appeared around a corner, a handkerchief-sized space of calm, greenery, and birdsong. Workmen swarmed over new buildings, monuments to rising fortunes, while graffiti-covered statues of forgotten notables stood neglected in once fashionable neighbourhoods.

  As she wandered, Tevi mulled over her options. Enough clues were in her letter to let Iralin work out who Wess Tanaislanda was. Who else from the small group of islands had ever set foot in the Protectorate? Iralin would also know where to find her. Tevi hoped that the next day would bring a summons to the Coven, with a letter of authorisation the gatekeeper would have to obey.

  But if not? Tevi chewed on her lip. She was not going to get any other help from the Coven, so she would have to continue on to Kradja and hope she did not miss Jemeryl on the way, coming back. In fact, for all she knew, Jemeryl might already be in Lyremouth, lying in the Coven infirmary. Tevi sighed. She would give Iralin three days to reply and then she would start asking at the docks for passage to Serac, the first leg in the journey.

  Dusk was drawing in when Tevi’s aimless meandering brought her back to the main square, where the guildhall for the Mercenary Warriors was sited. Like the Coven, the guildhall was a collection of buildings, some old, some new. More than just administration, the guildhall provided accommodation, training, and medical facilities for its members, in return for the tithe of their income.

  The tattoos on Tevi’s hands, crossed swords in red and gold, marked her as a vouchsafed guild warrior and she had been allocated a private room in the block assigned to senior mercenaries, rather than a place in a dormitory such as a junior might expect. The thought struck Tevi that, in the guildhall, she had indeed found a corner of Lyremouth she might be happy to call home, were it not that her home would always be with Jemeryl.

  Tevi pushed open the door to her room. The evening was advanced and darkness was thickening. A candle stood ready in its holder on the table. Was it too early to light it? Before she had time to take a step, the decision was made for her.

  The candle burst spontaneously into life and a voice from the corner said, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Tevi spun towards the speaker, although years of living with Jemeryl made her less startled by the self-lighting candle than might otherwise have been the case.

  Iralin levered herself to her feet. “Where have you been?”

  “I’ve—”

  “On second thoughts, don’t answer that. We don’t have time. When can you be ready to leave?”

  Tevi took a breath. When she sent the note, she had not expected Iralin to come to her room in person. The urgency of the response was also surprising, and unsettling. But what was the point of asking for help if you did not accept it when it came?

  “As soon as I’ve thrown some things in a bag.”

  “Throw them quickly.”

  Tevi shoved open the lid on her footlocker and started ramming the contents into her backpack. “Why
the rush?”

  “I’ve arranged passage for you on a boat to Serac that leaves on this evening’s tide. I was worried you’d be too late to catch it.”

  “Sorry. If I’d known, I’d have come back sooner.”

  Iralin gave an amused snort. “It’s all right. Even sorcerers have trouble with mind reading. I wouldn’t expect it from you.”

  Tevi stood up. “I’m ready.”

  “Good. I’ve got a carriage waiting in the rear yard.”

  The elderly sorcerer needed what breath she had for walking. Tevi waited until they were seated in the carriage before asking, “You’ve got me passage to Serac, you say. Is Jem there, or is she still in Kradja?”

  “How much do you know about what she’s been doing?”

  “I know that Alendy sent her to Kradja, allegedly to track down an old friend.”

  “Allegedly?”

  “I think he mainly wanted to get her as far from me as possible.”

  “That might be part of his motive, I guess. What else do you know?”

  “Not much. We were talking every few days, but then Klara collapsed. She hasn’t moved since. When the stand-in sorcerer couldn’t help, I came to Lyremouth in search of answers.”

  “Her familiar? Ah, yes. That explains how you knew something was wrong.”

  An ice fist clenched Tevi’s gut. “Is Jemeryl hurt?”

  “No. At least not as far as I know.”

  “You said that something was wrong.”

  “Indeed. The sorcerer who Jemeryl went to find has turned renegade on the Coven.”

  “Ciamon?”

  “Yes. He and Jemeryl were apprentices together.”

  “I know. Jem’s told me all about him.” Tevi put a slight emphasis on the word all.