Hearts in Cups (43 page)

"What if I told
you that I think I have discovered a way to trigger the potential to those
powers?" She paused as he reached across the table and gripped her hand in
his.

"You can teach me
how to use Tuenth's power?" He asked his question bluntly and his eyes
held a luminous green glitter of excitement.

She hid her smile.
"Yes, I believe that I can. There might be some risk involved..."

He shrugged her
disclaimer off. "When do we begin?"

"Tonight."
Now that she had hooked him, she was decisive. "I told you that I think I
know how the power is keyed, however I do not know the specific ritual that is
used by your House. We will be experimenting for the most part, but if you are
not afraid..." He shook his head emphatically. "Then we can start
some of the preliminary work tonight. Do you know how to affect an arcane
trance? No? Well, we will have to start there then. Eat well, we will be up
very late tonight," she warned gently.

From the battlements of
their small castle, Lady Idris ap Morna watched her army retreating from the
advance to the north. She peered out of the archer's sight-hole, trying to
glimpse the green and yellow standard with the blue chevrons, the insignia of
Morna and the colours under which her husband, Alwyn, now fought.

The attack had come
when they expected it, but the invading army was far larger than anticipated.
Their own advance troops had been thrown back within a few hours of commencing
battle and from that time on it had been a slow but continuous retreat on their
side. Alwyn had insisted on riding out and fighting with his men in spite of
Idris' plea to stay behind the castle walls. "You are the ruling lady of
this domain and I am your consort. It is for me to go forth and fight for your
rights. Besides which, I cannot order men to go out to their deaths without
risking my own; that would be the act of a coward." And so, she had
watched him mount his charger and ride out through the portcullis with his
standard bearer beside him.

All day Idris stood and
watched the fighting as it came closer and closer to the walls of the castle. Archers
were now able to fire on the enemy from behind the battlements, but still the
enemy came nearer. She sent the children with their nurse into hiding, deep
within the keep, but she could not retire there herself while those defending
her died and Alwyn remained somewhere out there in the darkening light. Making
her way along the defensive catwalks, she spoke encouragingly to the men she
encountered. By nightfall though, she saw that the end was drawing near and
that the enemy would be victorious. Alwyn did not return when the last
defenders withdrew into the castle.

In the hazy light of
the morning, those within the castle could see the enemy camped about them and
saw no possibility of escape or reprieve. A messenger beneath the flag of
parley came within bowshot of the castle walls to announce the death of Lord
Alwyn to his lady and demand her surrender of the castle.

With a bleak face,
Idris called her few commanders to her and asked for their advice. She was told
that while they might withstand a short siege, unless another force could
arrive to relieve them, they would eventually have to surrender. Hoping against
hope, it was agreed to wait for a day or two before giving the castle over.
Their defense indeed proved short as the soldiers of the Inner Ward, in
strength, attacked with siege-machines and battering rams until the portcullis
and its great doors were broken.

Unwilling to be
captured while trembling in a hiding hole, Lady Idris came forth as Lord Larth
Brescom rode through the rubble his men had made of the doors and, without
tears, surrendered her castle and submitted to being his prisoner, asking only
that those under her charge within the castle be spared. Brusquely he agreed to
her request, ordering all of her men to relinquish their weapons and the lady
to be confined with her children, under guard.

The port-city of Dacara
was an anomaly within the Pentarchy. While technically a city of the Pentarchy,
paying its revenues to the Duchy of Sandovar and obeying the laws of the
Pentarchy, it was also home to the Scholastium Arcana. Here dwelt the mage
masters, possessors and teachers of the arcane arts. To the Scholastium came
men and women of certain abilities to learn the ways of magic. Many of those
who came to be tested were from lands as far distant as Sklaar and  the
Kassorian Empire, but only a very few were permitted to stay and study with the
masters. Those who were accepted as students became arcane adepts, skilled
practitioners of an esoteric art. The mage masters were nine in number and
they, and their school, were beyond the pale of politics. They existed to
explore their own hidden realms and cared little for everyday life outside
their own halls. At their center was the archmage. Reputed to be deepest in
learning and wisdom, the archmage directed the energies of the masters and
their adepts and followed no counsel save for his own.

It was said that the
founders of the Scholastium had fled the destruction of their former home in
another land, coming to the shores of the Pentarchy soon after Gryffyd, first
of the High Kings, and his children had arrived and established their rule.
Recognizing themselves as distant brethren, Gryffyd had allowed the archmage
and his followers to refound their school within his domain. The mage masters were
free to conduct their own business without interference so long as they
refrained from either using their powers to the Pentarchy's detriment or trying
to influence the internal workings of the Pentarchy in any way. They were an
encapsulated entity living both within and without the Pentarchy. The oath they
had sworn was to King Gryffyd himself and from that time on they only treated
directly with House Sandovar's ruler when the occasion warranted it.

Colin de Chantalcalm
and his wife knew the city of Dacara well, having spent many years there when
attending the Scholastium as students, and so did not lose their way when a
thrown horseshoe slowed them down, forcing them to enter the city after dark.
The Scholastium lay in the northern precincts of the city, which meant that, to
reach their destination, they had to follow a circuitous route through the
labyrinth of streets that comprised the central, commercial center of Dacara.

They had escaped the
fall of Pentarin with few possessions and unquiet hearts. Leaving Michael and
Renard behind had been difficult for them, regardless of the men’s own
assurances of their relative safety. Somewhere to the south their children were
in hiding, their security a thing of the moment. A small band of servants and
minor palace nobles had left with them, but most had turned aside, once free of
danger, to find asylum with family or friends in the countryside. When their
entourage finally reached Dacara, only Dinea's personal lady-in-waiting and
three guards were still with their master and mistress.

Hidden in the black
shadows cast by the light of a waning moon, Colin rapped softly, a distinct
pattern of knocks alerting the doorkeeper to the fact that on the other side of
the wall was one who had knowledge of the Scholastium. They waited expectantly
for several minutes and then repeated the code. Again they waited in the lee of
the doorway for an agonizingly long time. Then came the sound of metal against
wood and a grilled opening in the door revealed the suspicious face of the
night gatekeeper. Stepping up to the door Colin showed his face and spoke in a
rapid, urgent tone of voice. The peephole was abruptly closed and the door was
swung open in invitation. Colin and Dinea entered eagerly but their retainers
hung back in fear and awe until coaxed into following.

The door opened onto a
narrow passageway formed by the exterior wall of the Scholastium's grounds and
the wall of one of the buildings. Holding a small lamp up to inspect each of
the late night visitors, the doorkeeper satisfied himself that they were who
they claimed. Nothing further was said as they followed the man into the
complex of buildings of which the Scholastium consisted. Black shadows thrown
against the whiteness of the walls made it difficult to see anything clearly.
They were led eventually to a building that Colin and Dinea remembered as being
in the center of the Scholastium, used chiefly by the mage masters themselves.
In a small anteroom with benches lining three of the walls they were asked to
wait while their presence was made known. Both Colin and Dinea realized that
they would be expected, despite their exhaustion, to give a full accounting of
themselves and their mission before they could ask for sanctuary.

They sat in silence for
a very long time waiting for the gatekeeper to announce their arrival. Dinea's
feet and hands had grown numb by the time he returned, and her maid had fallen
asleep on the bench beside her. The gatekeeper motioned for them to follow and
they all trooped after him into the main rotunda of the building, where they
were met by a tall, lanky man of indeterminate age wearing the deep blue-black
robes of a Master. Both Colin and Dinea bowed low before him, and the servants,
observing their lord and lady, followed suit.

"You come out of
the night in much haste seeking us," the mage said with a quizzical smile.

"We come seeking
sanctuary and begging help, Master Ciaran," Colin said earnestly.

Ciaran lifted his
eyebrows. "So I see. Well, come now and explain yourselves to we who are assembled
here. Your followers may go with Lorrel and be fed." Colin and Dinea,
assuring their people that they would be safe and cared for, ordered them to go
with the man who now appeared in the doorway. Ciaran turned on his heel and
they followed him up the staircase.

Only two of the masters
were seated at the semi-circular table in the audience chamber when they
entered. The table of black wood, burnished to an almost glassy sheen, eerily
reflected the pale faces of those sitting at it. The room itself was circular
and hung with dark blue curtains of non-reflective velvet that seemed to catch
at and absorb all light. A plain chandelier hung from the ceiling, its candles
casting strange shadows on the faces that sat studying the late-night visitors.
Without betraying the nervousness they felt coming thus before those they had
called "master" in the past, they bowed formally and continued
standing. Ciaran left them to take his seat. It was noted uneasily by both
Colin and Dinea that the chair of the archmage was not occupied.

 "Colin de
Chantalcalm and Dinea Caterin de Rommel, we recognize you both as being Arcane
Adepts of our teaching and therefore welcome you within our walls." The
master known as Urien greeted them.

"We thank you for
allowing us access," Colin replied formally. Here his status as a noble
and Head of a Minor House counted for little.

"For you to arrive
at night and with so few attendants is unusual enough for an explanation to be
demanded," Urien continued.

"You have had word
of the death of Lord Percamber?" Colin began. Heads were nodded. "Let
me begin by telling you of some of the events that occurred prior to his
death..."

As Colin spoke eyes
gleamed and heads nodded or shook slightly, but he was left to speak
uninterrupted. During this time Dinea studied the faces listening to her
husband. These three she knew from her years spent here. There were times when
the faces of the mage masters seemed more like sublime masks than the
countenances of ordinary men and women. All resembled each other in possessing
an aura of command and forcefulness. Having lived and studied here, she knew
that they, like herself and Colin, had been born with certain attributes which
skill and training had honed to an advanced degree of expertise

"...and so we fled
here to beg that you might intercede and help us preserve the integrity of the
Pentarchy."

Three pairs of eyes
continued to gaze at them with unwavering intensity. Urien spoke again.
"As spokesman for the Scholastium, I take it upon myself to grant you sanctuary.
However, just as none shall enter these walls to take you, none shall leave
these walls to aid you." His voice was as implacable as his pronouncement.

"Master Urien, do
you understand the ramifications of what I have been telling you?" Colin
countered unexpectedly. The mage's eyes fastened on him more intently; Urien
was unused to having his judgments questioned. "Up until now the Pentarchy
has protected and preserved you and this Scholastium. Are you saying that you
will let the Pentarchy be torn apart?"

"It will not be
torn apart; it will simply take a new form," was Urien's unruffled answer.

"And what is to
prevent Niall from attacking the Scholastium or forcing the Scholastium to
leave Dacara?" Colin pressed.

"The Duke of
Mirvanovir is hardly such a fool. No Colin, our charter firmly states that we
are not to meddle in the internal affairs of the Pentarchy. We may offer you
and Dinea Caterin sanctuary here because you were once our students, but, I
repeat, neither we nor any under our rule will wage warfare of any kind within
the Pentarchy."

"And what if they
use magic as a weapon?" Dinea's voice was heard for the first time.

"Were arcane means
used to overcome Pentarin?" Urien cocked his head to one side.

"No, but Rashara
de Sharonnara is a skilled adept and not above using such powers to further her
own gain," Dinea argued. "If they are willing to forget their oaths
of loyalty to House Sandovar, what is to prevent them from engaging in arcane
warfare to achieve their goal?"