Author's Note: Sorry it took longer than usual.... First the site was down,
then my betas were *all* waylaid - which, actually, is still the case, so
I'm taking a bit of a chance on this one; I hope there are no big problems.
I may well revise later.
As you can see, the plot's moving along! Exciting! And a bit unnerving... I
hope it all works out....
As usual, I (ahem!) expect reviews, thank you very much.
Chapter 4
She must have dozed off in the lazy afternoon sun and the comfort of Numair's presence. She woke to find him gone, with her boots removed and the blankets tucked firmly around her. Sitting up with a yawn, she checked the sun's angle and decided she had been asleep a little over an hour.
The bedside table bore a note in Numair's scribbly hand: "Sweet, I'm with Ravenpeak's mages in the south wing. Back in a few hours. There's a bath for you in the washroom. Go ahead and relax; there's little reason to hurry."
She couldn't agree entirely; being completely out of touch with the hurroks she suspected hadn't given up on Ravenpeak made her nervous. Even so, she took Numair's advice for the time being. A porcelain tub was indeed waiting in the luxurious washroom off the main chamber, and even after her nap the water was still steaming - due in part, she suspected, to a handy little spell of Numair's. It made her smile. He was such a sweet man, putting his power to small, practical purposes as well as earth-moving workings. Dropping her dusty clothes in a laundry hamper, she indulged in a moderately long soak, sweetened by the fragrant bath oils she found in the washroom, to rid her of the road's grime. The bath was both relaxing and invigorating, but she forced herself to get out of the tub after fifteen or twenty minutes. She meant what she'd told Numair earlier: there was work to do here. She toweled herself dry, then went to her packs for clean breeches and shirt. Going out to the balcony, she settled onto a cushion-lined couch. May as well be comfortable if I'm not going anywhere while I work, she decided. A shadow of guilt fell on her mind: here she was, enjoying Ravenpeak's sumptuous hospitality, while her friends were fighting in the grim war in the north.
With that in mind, she prepared to review the situation. Adopting a meditating position, legs crossed, hands palm-up on her knees, she sank into her magic. She still couldn't sense the hurroks, no matter how she listened - but perhaps something was wrong with her own magical abilities at the moment. It could happen, if she did too much at once or if her health lagged. She investigated this by testing them, starting with simple communication. She greeted every species of the local People, from combat steeds to mice scavenging in storehouses. They all resounded fully in her magical senses. Moving out from the fief, she reached to the animals of the surrounding plains; raptors, songbirds, rodents, and larger mammals alike felt completely normal. In the mountains, she found mountain goats, bears, and cliff-dwelling eagles - nothing was amiss. Returning to Ravenpeak, she asked various People's permission to ride in their mind. Again, she could easily slip in and out of every creature she tried, tame or wild.
Returning to her body on the balcony, she began testing her shape- shifting abilities. She took on forms of every kind, from bear to sparrow to lizard, even stepping into the now-lukewarm bathwater to try out fish shapes. Animal shapes came and went as easily as ever, including parts of different animals simultaneously. Back out on the balcony, she heard a swallow with a twisted foot, the result of an encounter with a touchy tomcat. Calling the bird to her, she healed the injury with ease, sending the grateful swallow, Sundancer, on her way.
Her range of magical skills was fully intact.
Now, to search for the hurroks. She took her meditating pose once again and sent her magic out. Calling to the raptors of the surrounding plains and mountains, she asked their help as spies, giving them detailed images of the immortals she was looking for. The birds were happy to help; many had had unfriendly encounters with the hurroks, who apparently were a significant menace to the People of Ravenpeak as well as its human inhabitants. Daine told them to be careful - and *not* to fight the hurroks, only to look for them - then sent her spies off. Returning to the fief, she commenced questioning the local People. Many had seen herd-mates or family members carried off, and were more than eager to help Daine. They only confirmed what Windracer had said: the hurroks were no different mentally than mortal animals (to which they were naturally comparable). Yet, from the People's descriptions, their attacks on the fief seemed strategic, from their oddly regular formations to their judgement of the odds. And until their deadly encounter with Lord Gregory's men, they had not revealed the extent of their numbers, appearing in groups no larger than ten. It was as if they had deliberately lured Ravenpeak's men out to their trap, working a long-term strategy. And after the attack that brought Daine and Numair down to Ravenpeak, they had disappeared completely.
The more she heard, the more bewildered and frustrated Daine felt. From all the reports, these hurroks were no more intelligent than could be expected of their kind. Even so, they had somehow managed to plan strategic attacks on Ravenpeak. The only possibility, it seemed, was that they were in fact being used by an enemy mage. She'd have to wait for Numair's report on that; if there were other mages commanding the hurroks, he would know.
Her raptor spies returned, calling warnings: they'd spotted about thirty of the monsters in a loose group in the plains. The birds gave measurements of distance in various units, most related to the species' flight distance per day, but with a few calculations Daine could get an idea of how far away they were.
The result made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. According to her scouts, the hurroks were in the plains five or six miles away - well within her range. Yet not a sign of them registered on her magical vision, no matter how she searched. She sent her spies out again to confirm the location; they returned shortly with the same reports and vivid descriptions of the monsters - part horse, part hawk, wandering about the plains bickering with one another or preying on the local People. The hurroks were no more than six miles southeast of Ravenpeak. She thanked the birds and sent them on their way, but her head spun. It was as if the monsters were in plain sight, but she was blind to them. She would be helpless to predict their approach, communicate with them, or peer into their enigmatic minds. Magically, her hands were tied. The thought induced touches of panic.
Opening her eyes at last, she found Numair had returned from his conference. He was standing at the balcony railing, looking out over the village below and apparently waiting for her to return from her magic. He too had exchanged his travel-battered clothes for clean ones, and looked washed and groomed. The sun's position marked a few more hours' passage. Daine took a few deep breaths, inhaling the fragrant air and trying to calm herself enough to focus on his report.
"Numair?" she called finally.
He turned, startled, at the sound of her voice. "I see you've been working," he remarked. Crossing the deck, he took a seat next to her on the couch.
"What news?" she asked, stretching out her legs - sore from being crossed so long - in front of her.
He grimaced. "I talked with the mages. We haven't found out much more than what we already knew. Their scryings were correct. I scried myself, just to confirm, and came up empty. Besides us, there isn't another mage in a ten- mile radius, or a controlling device. The hurroks weren't being directed that I can see." He looked grimly at her. "I hope you have better news."
"I wish I did." Daine bit her lip. "I talked to the People here. Those that talked with the hurroks say the same thing as Windracer - the falcon I healed. The hurroks weren't any smarter than they'd be normally. But - somehow - they *definitely* planned things. The way they attacked - in formations, and they were careful to attack where and when they'd be least likely found out." She took a breath. "I sent out spies. They say - they're *sure* - the hurroks are at most six miles southeast of here. Numair, I can't sense them at all, any more than I could before - but I *should*. They're well in range."
His eyebrows snapped together. "Is your magic all right?"
"It's *fine*!" she burst out, eyes blazing. "I tried out all the other things - shapeshifting, healing - I can do *anything* else, and I can sense all the usual People. But the hurroks - they're right under my nose, and I can't *see* them!" Her fear and frustration came through in her voice. "I've *never* seen anything of the like before. And right now, I'm useless. If they're about, if they decide to try another attack, I won't know. And I won't be able to talk to them, or see into their heads."
"Daine...." He gathered her in his arms. She ducked her head, gritting her teeth to hold back tears, but he felt her quivering. "Daine, listen to me," he said gently. "Believe me, I know what it's like. There have been more times than I'd care to remember that I've found myself up against something I didn't understand, let alone know how to fight. Or when my magic gave out on me." He raised her face to him with a gentle hand. "It happens to *every* mage throughout his or her career. This is our job - to encounter new magical phenomena and bring them to light. And we *will* get to the bottom of this. Especially knowing you, magelet, as you've never come short of anything you put your mind to."
She managed a crooked smile. "Oh, don't go giving out sweet words. It won't help us here."
He silenced her with long fingers over her lips. "Daine," he continued earnestly, "in a way, I'd be more worried if you weren't so exhausted. True, your magic is otherwise functional, but sensing immortals is a different function of wild magic altogether. From a strictly - professional viewpoint -" a smile crept into his features - "I would advise that you get some rest and recuperate from your labors in the Scanran war."
"You want me to lay about while the fief's under *attack*." She knew she sounded rude. "The hurroks could take it to mind to come back here any time."
"In which event," he said reasonably, "you need to be able to confront them. Daine, look around. Ravenpeak is exceptionally well defended." She couldn't deny it; she knew of the fief's military reputation. "Ask animals of the plains to keep watch and inform you of the hurroks' movements. If they return, you *will* know, and you can alert the fief to arms. Ravenpeak is more than well prepared to fight off a hurrok attack inside its own walls."
She nodded; it made sense. Despite her earlier cynicism, she took comfort in his words.
"So in the meantime," he continued, "you shouldn't worry about Ravenpeak's safety. What you *should* do is relax and try to recover. *Professionally* speaking, you'll want to be in shape when and if the hurroks return."
She relented, smiling tiredly at him "Yes, sir."
He smiled and kissed her forehead. She rested against him as he stroked her hair, absorbing the calm of his steady breathing, taking comfort. The late afternoon sun had intensified, marking the beginning of its descent; a gentle breeze brushed against them. She might have fallen asleep in his arms - he was right, she *was* tired - but she made herself stay focused for the moment.
"We should make our reports to his lordship," she reminded Numair at length. "Just tell him the hurroks don't have mage help, and where they are, and that I'll have scouts out to tell me what they're up to."
He murmured agreement, still stroking her hair, until she shifted away. "I'll tell the plains and mountain People now - birds, I s'pose, to let me know about the hurroks."
His eyes crinkled in amusement. "Always so eager to get away from me, magelet?" he teased. "I believe we were interrupted before as well."
She reached out to shove him away jokingly. "Go on, you," she ordered. "I'll be just a minute - then we'll go down to meet his lordship." He bowed deferentially and retreated inside, leaving her out on the balcony. She closed her eyes and reached out again, this time to the hawks and eagles of the plains, asking them to keep an eye on the hurroks - but not to risk themselves - and keep her informed. They complied eagerly. Again, not being able to sense the hurroks herself alarmed her - she couldn't help feeling a menace at her back. But Numair was right: at the moment, there was nothing she could do about it, and nothing immediate to worry about. In any case, she'd be able to inform Ravenpeak of the immortals' approach, and they were well defended. And it was true - she was more worn-out than she had admitted to herself before being pampered by Lord Gregory's hospitality. She resolved to take Numair's advice and try to regain her strength before the hurroks returned. As long as she could do nothing else directly, it was in a way the most productive use of time.
Returning for a last time to her body on the deck, she finally rose from the couch. Standing, a sudden wave of dizziness came over her, and she gripped the armrest, alarmed. The dizziness passed; her head settled. Stretching out to shake off the last vestiges of inactivity, she joined Numair inside.
~~~~~
Ravenpeak's lord listened attentively to their reports over his desk, nodding politely in acknowledgement. "All this within hours of your arrival," he complimented. "So the monsters were indeed not being directed by mages; and you've located them precisely."
Daine nodded. "I have raptor scouts out in the plains, and they will keep me informed on the hurroks."
"Excellent. But -" Gregory's brow creased - "I understood you yourself could sense them magically."
Daine looked away briefly. "You understood correctly. No, I can't sense them right now." She steeled herself. "But there could be any number of reasons for this; my connection to immortals is a sensitive one. And I admit, after my work in the Scanran war, I am not as magically - in condition - as I would like to be. In fact, I can't say Numair is either."
"His Majesty seemed to realize this," Numair admitted. "He had granted us a month's leave shortly before we were called there."
Lord Gregory stroked his graying beard. "In that case, Master SalmalĂn, Mistress Sarrasri, you have done me an immense service outside your own convenience and health. On behalf of my family and people, I thank you." He ducked his head. "In the meantime, we invite you to dine with us this evening. It is a small recompense for your services."
"On the contrary, my lord," Daine protested. "Your hospitality is extremely generous." Their luxurious guest suite was in truth more resplendent than she'd really care to call home.
"We accept with pleasure," Numair added in response to the dinner invitation. "It is our honor."
Gregory smiled. "We hope to show you the more recreational features offered here at Ravenpeak."
"Thank you, my lord." The mages stood. "If you will excuse us."
"Of course. Thank you." Lord Gregory had already turned his attention once more to the papers on his desk.
Outside Gregory's study, Daine and Numair started in the direction to their own rooms. "He seems like a fine sort," Daine remarked. "Ravenpeak. The way he acts, with a care to his people and more than just feasting and dancing in his own castle."
"Such is his reputation," Numair agreed. "When Ravenpeak's forces fight, so does he. Even the generals answer directly to him. When raiders came around last spring for livestock and goods, Gregory was in the front lines. They say he almost lost an arm once, to save some of the greener soldiers."
Daine whistled. "Probably with the same attitude he serves the Crown. I can see why His Majesty said what he did, at the conference."
"And that's why we're here," Numair reminded her. "Dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, not a week into our 'leave', and sent across the kingdom to fight these strangely evasive monsters." Seeing Daine's brow furrow, he added, "Magelet, I told you not to worry about it just yet. You *should* just be resting if the hurroks aren't around for you to fight."
"I remember," she said dryly. "So here we are, lazing about in accommodations finer than Their Majesties' up at the palace, and invited to dine and dance with the lords and ladies while our friends fight King Maggot's forces up north."
"Ouch. I would remind you, magelet, we *were* granted a delightful thing called leave. Even if it didn't exactly work out as we expected. As for dining and dancing, it's to be expected of our hosts - it's a basic tenet of civilized hospitality, not to mention we are working to defend Ravenpeak." They had reached their rooms; Numair produced the oversized key.
Daine's brow returned to its now-familiar pattern of creases. "For tonight - I'll have to see the dressmaker, then." She groaned, scrubbing her face with her hands.
"Lovely," he said wickedly as he held the door open for her.
Chapter 4
She must have dozed off in the lazy afternoon sun and the comfort of Numair's presence. She woke to find him gone, with her boots removed and the blankets tucked firmly around her. Sitting up with a yawn, she checked the sun's angle and decided she had been asleep a little over an hour.
The bedside table bore a note in Numair's scribbly hand: "Sweet, I'm with Ravenpeak's mages in the south wing. Back in a few hours. There's a bath for you in the washroom. Go ahead and relax; there's little reason to hurry."
She couldn't agree entirely; being completely out of touch with the hurroks she suspected hadn't given up on Ravenpeak made her nervous. Even so, she took Numair's advice for the time being. A porcelain tub was indeed waiting in the luxurious washroom off the main chamber, and even after her nap the water was still steaming - due in part, she suspected, to a handy little spell of Numair's. It made her smile. He was such a sweet man, putting his power to small, practical purposes as well as earth-moving workings. Dropping her dusty clothes in a laundry hamper, she indulged in a moderately long soak, sweetened by the fragrant bath oils she found in the washroom, to rid her of the road's grime. The bath was both relaxing and invigorating, but she forced herself to get out of the tub after fifteen or twenty minutes. She meant what she'd told Numair earlier: there was work to do here. She toweled herself dry, then went to her packs for clean breeches and shirt. Going out to the balcony, she settled onto a cushion-lined couch. May as well be comfortable if I'm not going anywhere while I work, she decided. A shadow of guilt fell on her mind: here she was, enjoying Ravenpeak's sumptuous hospitality, while her friends were fighting in the grim war in the north.
With that in mind, she prepared to review the situation. Adopting a meditating position, legs crossed, hands palm-up on her knees, she sank into her magic. She still couldn't sense the hurroks, no matter how she listened - but perhaps something was wrong with her own magical abilities at the moment. It could happen, if she did too much at once or if her health lagged. She investigated this by testing them, starting with simple communication. She greeted every species of the local People, from combat steeds to mice scavenging in storehouses. They all resounded fully in her magical senses. Moving out from the fief, she reached to the animals of the surrounding plains; raptors, songbirds, rodents, and larger mammals alike felt completely normal. In the mountains, she found mountain goats, bears, and cliff-dwelling eagles - nothing was amiss. Returning to Ravenpeak, she asked various People's permission to ride in their mind. Again, she could easily slip in and out of every creature she tried, tame or wild.
Returning to her body on the balcony, she began testing her shape- shifting abilities. She took on forms of every kind, from bear to sparrow to lizard, even stepping into the now-lukewarm bathwater to try out fish shapes. Animal shapes came and went as easily as ever, including parts of different animals simultaneously. Back out on the balcony, she heard a swallow with a twisted foot, the result of an encounter with a touchy tomcat. Calling the bird to her, she healed the injury with ease, sending the grateful swallow, Sundancer, on her way.
Her range of magical skills was fully intact.
Now, to search for the hurroks. She took her meditating pose once again and sent her magic out. Calling to the raptors of the surrounding plains and mountains, she asked their help as spies, giving them detailed images of the immortals she was looking for. The birds were happy to help; many had had unfriendly encounters with the hurroks, who apparently were a significant menace to the People of Ravenpeak as well as its human inhabitants. Daine told them to be careful - and *not* to fight the hurroks, only to look for them - then sent her spies off. Returning to the fief, she commenced questioning the local People. Many had seen herd-mates or family members carried off, and were more than eager to help Daine. They only confirmed what Windracer had said: the hurroks were no different mentally than mortal animals (to which they were naturally comparable). Yet, from the People's descriptions, their attacks on the fief seemed strategic, from their oddly regular formations to their judgement of the odds. And until their deadly encounter with Lord Gregory's men, they had not revealed the extent of their numbers, appearing in groups no larger than ten. It was as if they had deliberately lured Ravenpeak's men out to their trap, working a long-term strategy. And after the attack that brought Daine and Numair down to Ravenpeak, they had disappeared completely.
The more she heard, the more bewildered and frustrated Daine felt. From all the reports, these hurroks were no more intelligent than could be expected of their kind. Even so, they had somehow managed to plan strategic attacks on Ravenpeak. The only possibility, it seemed, was that they were in fact being used by an enemy mage. She'd have to wait for Numair's report on that; if there were other mages commanding the hurroks, he would know.
Her raptor spies returned, calling warnings: they'd spotted about thirty of the monsters in a loose group in the plains. The birds gave measurements of distance in various units, most related to the species' flight distance per day, but with a few calculations Daine could get an idea of how far away they were.
The result made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. According to her scouts, the hurroks were in the plains five or six miles away - well within her range. Yet not a sign of them registered on her magical vision, no matter how she searched. She sent her spies out again to confirm the location; they returned shortly with the same reports and vivid descriptions of the monsters - part horse, part hawk, wandering about the plains bickering with one another or preying on the local People. The hurroks were no more than six miles southeast of Ravenpeak. She thanked the birds and sent them on their way, but her head spun. It was as if the monsters were in plain sight, but she was blind to them. She would be helpless to predict their approach, communicate with them, or peer into their enigmatic minds. Magically, her hands were tied. The thought induced touches of panic.
Opening her eyes at last, she found Numair had returned from his conference. He was standing at the balcony railing, looking out over the village below and apparently waiting for her to return from her magic. He too had exchanged his travel-battered clothes for clean ones, and looked washed and groomed. The sun's position marked a few more hours' passage. Daine took a few deep breaths, inhaling the fragrant air and trying to calm herself enough to focus on his report.
"Numair?" she called finally.
He turned, startled, at the sound of her voice. "I see you've been working," he remarked. Crossing the deck, he took a seat next to her on the couch.
"What news?" she asked, stretching out her legs - sore from being crossed so long - in front of her.
He grimaced. "I talked with the mages. We haven't found out much more than what we already knew. Their scryings were correct. I scried myself, just to confirm, and came up empty. Besides us, there isn't another mage in a ten- mile radius, or a controlling device. The hurroks weren't being directed that I can see." He looked grimly at her. "I hope you have better news."
"I wish I did." Daine bit her lip. "I talked to the People here. Those that talked with the hurroks say the same thing as Windracer - the falcon I healed. The hurroks weren't any smarter than they'd be normally. But - somehow - they *definitely* planned things. The way they attacked - in formations, and they were careful to attack where and when they'd be least likely found out." She took a breath. "I sent out spies. They say - they're *sure* - the hurroks are at most six miles southeast of here. Numair, I can't sense them at all, any more than I could before - but I *should*. They're well in range."
His eyebrows snapped together. "Is your magic all right?"
"It's *fine*!" she burst out, eyes blazing. "I tried out all the other things - shapeshifting, healing - I can do *anything* else, and I can sense all the usual People. But the hurroks - they're right under my nose, and I can't *see* them!" Her fear and frustration came through in her voice. "I've *never* seen anything of the like before. And right now, I'm useless. If they're about, if they decide to try another attack, I won't know. And I won't be able to talk to them, or see into their heads."
"Daine...." He gathered her in his arms. She ducked her head, gritting her teeth to hold back tears, but he felt her quivering. "Daine, listen to me," he said gently. "Believe me, I know what it's like. There have been more times than I'd care to remember that I've found myself up against something I didn't understand, let alone know how to fight. Or when my magic gave out on me." He raised her face to him with a gentle hand. "It happens to *every* mage throughout his or her career. This is our job - to encounter new magical phenomena and bring them to light. And we *will* get to the bottom of this. Especially knowing you, magelet, as you've never come short of anything you put your mind to."
She managed a crooked smile. "Oh, don't go giving out sweet words. It won't help us here."
He silenced her with long fingers over her lips. "Daine," he continued earnestly, "in a way, I'd be more worried if you weren't so exhausted. True, your magic is otherwise functional, but sensing immortals is a different function of wild magic altogether. From a strictly - professional viewpoint -" a smile crept into his features - "I would advise that you get some rest and recuperate from your labors in the Scanran war."
"You want me to lay about while the fief's under *attack*." She knew she sounded rude. "The hurroks could take it to mind to come back here any time."
"In which event," he said reasonably, "you need to be able to confront them. Daine, look around. Ravenpeak is exceptionally well defended." She couldn't deny it; she knew of the fief's military reputation. "Ask animals of the plains to keep watch and inform you of the hurroks' movements. If they return, you *will* know, and you can alert the fief to arms. Ravenpeak is more than well prepared to fight off a hurrok attack inside its own walls."
She nodded; it made sense. Despite her earlier cynicism, she took comfort in his words.
"So in the meantime," he continued, "you shouldn't worry about Ravenpeak's safety. What you *should* do is relax and try to recover. *Professionally* speaking, you'll want to be in shape when and if the hurroks return."
She relented, smiling tiredly at him "Yes, sir."
He smiled and kissed her forehead. She rested against him as he stroked her hair, absorbing the calm of his steady breathing, taking comfort. The late afternoon sun had intensified, marking the beginning of its descent; a gentle breeze brushed against them. She might have fallen asleep in his arms - he was right, she *was* tired - but she made herself stay focused for the moment.
"We should make our reports to his lordship," she reminded Numair at length. "Just tell him the hurroks don't have mage help, and where they are, and that I'll have scouts out to tell me what they're up to."
He murmured agreement, still stroking her hair, until she shifted away. "I'll tell the plains and mountain People now - birds, I s'pose, to let me know about the hurroks."
His eyes crinkled in amusement. "Always so eager to get away from me, magelet?" he teased. "I believe we were interrupted before as well."
She reached out to shove him away jokingly. "Go on, you," she ordered. "I'll be just a minute - then we'll go down to meet his lordship." He bowed deferentially and retreated inside, leaving her out on the balcony. She closed her eyes and reached out again, this time to the hawks and eagles of the plains, asking them to keep an eye on the hurroks - but not to risk themselves - and keep her informed. They complied eagerly. Again, not being able to sense the hurroks herself alarmed her - she couldn't help feeling a menace at her back. But Numair was right: at the moment, there was nothing she could do about it, and nothing immediate to worry about. In any case, she'd be able to inform Ravenpeak of the immortals' approach, and they were well defended. And it was true - she was more worn-out than she had admitted to herself before being pampered by Lord Gregory's hospitality. She resolved to take Numair's advice and try to regain her strength before the hurroks returned. As long as she could do nothing else directly, it was in a way the most productive use of time.
Returning for a last time to her body on the deck, she finally rose from the couch. Standing, a sudden wave of dizziness came over her, and she gripped the armrest, alarmed. The dizziness passed; her head settled. Stretching out to shake off the last vestiges of inactivity, she joined Numair inside.
~~~~~
Ravenpeak's lord listened attentively to their reports over his desk, nodding politely in acknowledgement. "All this within hours of your arrival," he complimented. "So the monsters were indeed not being directed by mages; and you've located them precisely."
Daine nodded. "I have raptor scouts out in the plains, and they will keep me informed on the hurroks."
"Excellent. But -" Gregory's brow creased - "I understood you yourself could sense them magically."
Daine looked away briefly. "You understood correctly. No, I can't sense them right now." She steeled herself. "But there could be any number of reasons for this; my connection to immortals is a sensitive one. And I admit, after my work in the Scanran war, I am not as magically - in condition - as I would like to be. In fact, I can't say Numair is either."
"His Majesty seemed to realize this," Numair admitted. "He had granted us a month's leave shortly before we were called there."
Lord Gregory stroked his graying beard. "In that case, Master SalmalĂn, Mistress Sarrasri, you have done me an immense service outside your own convenience and health. On behalf of my family and people, I thank you." He ducked his head. "In the meantime, we invite you to dine with us this evening. It is a small recompense for your services."
"On the contrary, my lord," Daine protested. "Your hospitality is extremely generous." Their luxurious guest suite was in truth more resplendent than she'd really care to call home.
"We accept with pleasure," Numair added in response to the dinner invitation. "It is our honor."
Gregory smiled. "We hope to show you the more recreational features offered here at Ravenpeak."
"Thank you, my lord." The mages stood. "If you will excuse us."
"Of course. Thank you." Lord Gregory had already turned his attention once more to the papers on his desk.
Outside Gregory's study, Daine and Numair started in the direction to their own rooms. "He seems like a fine sort," Daine remarked. "Ravenpeak. The way he acts, with a care to his people and more than just feasting and dancing in his own castle."
"Such is his reputation," Numair agreed. "When Ravenpeak's forces fight, so does he. Even the generals answer directly to him. When raiders came around last spring for livestock and goods, Gregory was in the front lines. They say he almost lost an arm once, to save some of the greener soldiers."
Daine whistled. "Probably with the same attitude he serves the Crown. I can see why His Majesty said what he did, at the conference."
"And that's why we're here," Numair reminded her. "Dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, not a week into our 'leave', and sent across the kingdom to fight these strangely evasive monsters." Seeing Daine's brow furrow, he added, "Magelet, I told you not to worry about it just yet. You *should* just be resting if the hurroks aren't around for you to fight."
"I remember," she said dryly. "So here we are, lazing about in accommodations finer than Their Majesties' up at the palace, and invited to dine and dance with the lords and ladies while our friends fight King Maggot's forces up north."
"Ouch. I would remind you, magelet, we *were* granted a delightful thing called leave. Even if it didn't exactly work out as we expected. As for dining and dancing, it's to be expected of our hosts - it's a basic tenet of civilized hospitality, not to mention we are working to defend Ravenpeak." They had reached their rooms; Numair produced the oversized key.
Daine's brow returned to its now-familiar pattern of creases. "For tonight - I'll have to see the dressmaker, then." She groaned, scrubbing her face with her hands.
"Lovely," he said wickedly as he held the door open for her.
