With a sore back, Farek hunched over his desk and signed another notice of deposit. He added the total to his ledge and then, sighing loudly, he leaned back in the armchair. His office, as Head of Finances, was piled with shelves. Each shelf was laden with folios or served as a frame for dusty moth-eaten scrolls. Despite its fragility, it was utterly still, and silent. The kink in Farek’s shoulders, nibbling its way up into his neck, was the most chaotic thing in the room.
He let out his breath and moved over the next document for his perusal. A letter from Lord Udo. His eyes had only just made it through the first rambling sentence, when the door of his office creaked open and a timid servant poked her head in. “What is it, Missak?”
“The Mazaar has asked for your attendance, milord,” she said softly, as though trying not to disturb the tranquilly decaying room. “A guest is arriving from the harbour.”
“A guest?” Farek asked, in a much louder voice. “What guest?”
The young woman bobbed her head again. “A delegate from the Port of Bellasa. Your sister said only this, milord.”
Farek shrugged, then smiled. Any excuse to stand up, he thought. He strode toward the door, which Missak held for him, and then followed her down the corridor to the nearby house foyer. Jannia was coming down the stairs from the second floor, and smiled to Farek while waving away the aide. There was no sign of Simi.
Farek’s older sister rested her hand on the knob of the railing, a she turned around in the foyer to face the ajar double doors of their mansion. “How is everything?” she asked him.
“Good, as far as I know,” answered Farek.
“That’s good,” Jannia said. “I heard that Lord Thrane has sent someone to speak with the current leaders of Lo Mallago.” She leaned closer. “They are on the Matriarch’s payroll right now, so our people should be well-received.”
“How nice.”
Jannia rolled her eyes. “You sound amused…”
Farek dropped open his jaw and looked at her bewildered. “Me? Amused?” he asked. “Never.”
Out at the gate to their property, a man and two servants stepped out from the street. The man was broad-shouldered and middle-aged. The servants were laden with trunks and bags. The man’s turquoise tunic came into view more clearly as he approached along the path and stepped up to the door; it had a diamond pattern layered into it with white stiches, while a sandy brown tunic hung down his back.
The servants that attended the house doors announced him as he arrived. “Welcome, Devender Akursh of Bellasa of the Great Isle,” they called to the inhabitants of the foyer. Then to the man entering, they declared, “You stand before Mazaar Jannia Gallendris and her brother, Lord Farek Gallendris.”
The man bowed his shaved head to them, reverently placing his hands back-to-palm as he leaned his shoulders down as well.
“Welcome, Master Akursh,” Jannia intoned.
As he straightened, the newcomer declared, “Devender, please.”
“We welcome you to our home,” Farek added, smiling pleasantly.
“Thank you,” Devender offered. “I have spent the last few months in the hospitality of the Two Matriarchs. To be honest, I was not certain what to expect in Soros, but I have been well-received. Thank you.”
Jannia nodded. “Soros is a city of class and culture. We extend a gracious welcome to any foreign dignitary. Do you represent your home of Bellasa?”
Devender pursed his lips, and then bowed his head once more. “I do not, Mazaar Gallendris. I serve myself only. I have come to Var Nordos for study.”
“What is your profession, sir?” Farek gently questioned.
“I am a scholar and a mage,” Devender replied. He took a measured step closer to the rulers. “From the Grand Library in the capital, I have withdrawn several tomes for study, but there was little available there in the way of applied positions. I have come to your fine city to offer my services as a Court Magician.” The words danced across the foyer with a small echo, followed by a pause. Then Devender went on. “Obviously, this may require some discussion on the matter. If it is agreeable with milady and milord, I would retire to an inn here, until you have considered my proposal.”
Farek blinked. That’s quite an offer, he thought. He glanced at Jannia, who looked at him with raised eyebrows.
His sister turned back to Master Devender. “It has been many years, a generation even, since Soros had a Court Magician,” she pointed out. Farek remembered his research into Gravagan’s past service with his mother and his grandfather. Jannia continued: “Would you expect a certain measure of time for your personal focus, or accept responsibilities I deem fitting? Would you expect pay for your services?”
“Most such tenures are unpaid, unless there is a great degree of responsibility and governmental functions,” the sage answered. “I would primarily be interested in offering my knowledge for consultation, my skill at healing, and my network of contacts abroad, not the former. As such, I would consider food and boarding to be sufficient remittance.”
Farek blinked. “Pardon me, sir, but why have you come to Soros with this offer?”
“The Great Library is one academy I have not yet perused. I spent my formative years in the learned estates of my home, Bellasa, and have since studied in Saanazar, the Joyous King’s Court in High Raena, and, briefly, at the Palace of Maga. As a travelled man without allegiance, I cannot justify the expenses of proper accommodation in conjunction with an emphasis on intellectual pursuits. In Noress-That-Was, there is no place for me. I hope, perhaps, there is here.”
That was quite a list of accolades, Farek knew. Saanazar was widely regarded for its academic and meditative campuses, despite the clutches of the Atmos Septi’s seat. High Raena, a peaceful city in a golden age, and the Eye of Maga were both notable for their scholars as well.
“This is certainly something to consider,” Jannia said, smiling politely. “We can put you up here, though, until we finalize something. No need to resort to an inn.”
Devender bowed formally once more. “Most gracious.”
Farek demanded the servants show Master Akursh to their finest guest quarters. Devender followed his servants and his trunks of books and belongings up the staircase toward the second-storey suites. One of the two servants was wearing a rough flax shirt—likely, he was just a Sorosi harbour worker who had earned a coin for his muscles this afternoon.
“Rather unexpected,” Jannia said to Farek, once they were alone in the foyer. “I’m surprised no one from Noress-That-Was mentioned it, but these are hectic times indeed.”
Farek snorted. “Unexpected is the nicer way to put it I suppose.”
“What’s your impression of him?” Jannia asked.
Lord Gallendris considered with while rubbing his stiff neck. He must have pulled a muscle the wrong way the last time he had been guarding the streets on his twilight wanderings. Devender had struck him as a very intelligent fellow, and notably well-spoken. He did not appear as old as most scholars from the locales he had cited. “Smart and knowledgeable with a dash of ambition,” he told his sister.
The Mazaar nodded. “I agree. I’m curious if there’s other motivations for his arrival, but that’s not something we’ll likely learn. I’ll have to think on this.”
“A clever man does not reveal his whole deck in one round.”
Jannia nodded distractedly. “It’s true.” Then, looking past Farek, she snapped, “Yes?” It was Missak again, this time offering a rolled parchment to her lady. Farek’s sister quickly opened it and began to scan the document. “Ah, the harbour report.”
After a moment, Farek nodded his head toward the adjacent corridor. “I’ll get back to work, I suppose?”
“Didn’t you go to New Mallam?” Jannia asked, without looking up.
“I did… why do you ask?” Farek asked.
His sister looked up and held out the page. She pointed at an item of news on the report as she repeated it aloud, “ ‘Seasonal war on the Great Isle takes a turn for the worst. New Mallam fallen to bandits, battles along Oshia Rivers with an undeclared foe. No clear details yet.’ Bandits? Really?”
Farek’s gut clenched as hard as a stone on the beach. When he had left New Mallam—baron-less and undefended—there had been rumours of a gathering wild-folk inland. Farek stared at the words on Jannia’s report and paled. Inland… near the ruins of Kiaraka. Near the remnant of Tarro’s home.