The White Robe (46 page)

“And what about the regent, will he interfere”

“I have advised him of the situation and warned him against doing anything which might upset you.”

“Good, you have done well. Now for my news, I’ve been busy whilst you have been away and other plans have come to fruition. I expect you know by now that King Sarrat is dead at the hands of Maladran the black, but with some small assistance from me. In his place Leersland have found themselves a queen; a slip of a girl with no control over her emotions who has run off to help a friend and has left the throne in the hands of my Captain Malingar. My southern army is already deployed around Tarmin, and Rastor waits with my northern army on the estate of Great Lord Andron. I have only been waiting for you to arrive before moving into Leersland and taking its throne for myself.”

“That’s truly amazing Your Majesty, conquest without bloodshed.”

“Well, without too much bloodshed. I ride to Tarmin before the end of this moon cycle and I want you and Jonderill at my side.”

“I am honoured Your Majesty, but that may be difficult.”

Borman glared at his magician. “Do not gainsay me, white robe. When I ride into Tarmin you and Jonderill will be at my side.”

Callabris bowed his head in apology. “Your pardon My Lord, but I had hoped to spend some time with Jonderill, teaching him the basics of my craft and giving him more time in your presence so he could learn how best to serve you before we travelled again.”

“Admirable intentions, and I will give you ten days, after which you’ll both accompany me. Jonderill will just have to learn his lessons in the saddle.”

“Yes, My Lord.” Callabris replaced his untouched goblet of wine on the table by his chair and stood. “If you will excuse me Your Majesty, the time available is short and I have much to do.”

He gave a cursory bow and left with his protector following behind. Borman watched them go and smiled to himself. Soon he would do what no other king in the six kingdoms had ever done; rule two kingdoms, so having two magicians was only his right. When Northshield and Leersland were successfully joined as one kingdom he might consider having just the one magician, perhaps someone young and loyal to him alone and without Callabris’s old fashioned and outdated sense of morality.

*

“Why. Can. I. Not. Do. This?” snarled Jonderill in frustration, smashing his hand down and squashing the wine berry into the table. The other deep purple stains showed where he had tried to move other wine berries and they had met a similar fate. Tissian looked up in sympathy from the knife handle he was rebinding and waited to see if his master would say anything else.

“It’s so damn frustrating!” Jonderill stalked to the nearby dresser and poured himself a goblet of wine. He took one sip, grimaced at the bitter taste and put the goblet down heavily again.

“Perhaps you are tired, Lord. It was nearly sunrise before you retired last night and that’s a third night in a row.”

“So what! You don’t have to trail after me like a hound when I attend the king’s receptions. No one’s going to pull a knife on me in there are they?”

He took another sip of wine and pushed his fingers through his uncombed hair. “I’m sorry, Tissian, that was uncalled for. It’s just that when I go to these things and start mixing with the royal court, I lose track of time and I only have a little time to learn all I need to know about being amongst the rich and powerful.” He smiled and chuckled to himself. “Did you see the look on Callabris’s face when I took his seat next to the king and he was relegated to the lower benches?”

“No, Lord, but I saw the look Allowyn gave you for your discourtesy to his master.”

“Sod Allowyn. You protectors don’t understand what it’s like to be important and to be the king’s favourite.” Tissian said nothing but returned to his task whilst Jonderill returned to put another wine berry on the table. “When we ride in two day’s time the king has asked me to ride at his side so that he can introduce me to the lords who we will collect on our way. There won’t be any ladies of course, which is a pity as I do enjoy their company. Still, when we return to court, I will have plenty of time to get to know them on a personal basis. The king said he would see to it that I met all the highest ranking ladies, particularly those who aren’t married.”

Jonderill rocked back on the two rear legs of his chair with a self-satisfied look on his face. “The king said that he would provide me with a place of my own so that I could entertain the best in society. I would need servants of course but the king said he’d provide me with everything I need.”

“Lord,” interrupted Tissian. “Shouldn’t you be practicing?”

Jonderill thumped the chair back down onto its four legs and flicked the wine berry across the table so that it splattered against the wall leaving a red stain on the white plaster. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do; if you’re not interested in what I have to say then you can go elsewhere and play with your knife.”

Tissian sighed, picked up his things and left, After all it was just as easy to sit outside his master’s door and work as it was to sit in his room and listen to him boast. He pulled two chairs together and spread his tools out making sure that his swords were easy to draw if the need arose. This was a side of his master he hadn’t seen before and didn’t particularly like. He wondered if Callabris had ever been like that and decided to ask Allowyn the next time he saw him. The corridor was peaceful and he had finished repairing the handle of one knife and had started on another when Callabris and Allowyn disturbed him. Tissian put his work down and stood and bowed to the white robe.

“Tissian, has your master private company that you are sitting here outside his door?”

“No, Lord, my master has been considering the benefits of being at court and became tired of my company.”

Callabris smiled in understanding. “Ah, Tissian, it’s not a protector’s place to criticise their master, even when they are being foolish. However, I shouldn’t despair if I were you; it’s common for a king’s attention to go to a young man’s head when it first happens, but worry not, it won’t last for long. Now, I must see your master for a moment and Allowyn will stay here and tell you a story about a young white robe who made a complete fool of himself in the royal court of Tarbis many years ago.”

He knocked on the door of Jonderill’s apartments and let himself in, noticing the dark purple splashes on the walls and the remains of squashed wine berries on the floor. “Jonderill, the king has asked for you to attend him at once. I believe he has a task for you. Would you like me to accompany you?”

“No, I’m quite capable of talking to the king by myself.” He stood and straightened his robe. “I suppose Tissian will have to tag along?”

“It would be unwise and unkind not to let him do his duty.”

Jonderill gave a grunt of displeasure and walked out of his rooms leaving Callabris to close the door behind him and Tissian to gather his things and hurry along the corridor after him. When he reached the king’s receiving room, Borman was waiting for him, a look of excitement on his face. He took Jonderill by the arm and hurried him over to the window.

“Look down there, Master Jonderill; it’s the maze that my father built. Can you see how the path twists and turns and cuts back on itself and how the side paths go nowhere but dead ends?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Can you follow the path through the maze to its centre where that white building stands?”

Jonderill followed the pathways for a short while until he had worked out how to reach the centre of the maze and then nodded.

“Good. Then you and I are going to walk the maze together. It was built by my father for his magician and it’s his remains which are interred in the building in the centre. My father told me that only he and those with magic could reach the centre, but Callabris has always declined to accompany me; I think the old fool’s magic is not powerful enough. But you will accompany me, won’t you Jonderill?”

Jonderill took another look at the maze; it looked simple enough. “Yes, Your Majesty, it would be an honour.”

“Excellent. Come, there are stairs that lead from this room directly to the entrance to the maze.”

Borman opened a door in one corner of the room, which Jonderill had taken to be the front of a book case, and led the way down a dark spiral staircase until they reached the ground floor, where he unlocked the door with a key hanging on a nearby peg. It wasn’t until they stepped through into the bright sunshine that Jonderill realised that the outer edge of the maze met the stone of the palace wall, making this the only way in and out of its twisting walkways. Jonderill stared up at the stone walls high above his head with which the maze was made, and tried to picture the course of the pathways he had seen from above. He took a deep breath, gave his protector a curt command to stay where he was and set off with an excited King Borman following closely behind.

It was pleasantly warm in the maze with the high sun warming the stone and lighting the way. Jonderill led them confidently along the path ignoring the turnings which he knew led to dead ends and turning down others, following the plan in his mind. When the sun reached its zenith, the heat increased, and they stopped whilst Borman removed his finely tooled leather jerkin and rolled back his sleeves. Jonderill wished that he had thought to bring something to drink, but he hadn’t thought it would take him so long to reach the centre; it certainly didn’t seem that far from above.

The sun had tipped over the tops of the wall sending early shadows across the pathway when they encountered the first dead end. Jonderill was surprised but not concerned as they retraced their steps back; he must have miscounted the side turns and gone one too far. When they reached the next opening they turned into it and continued along that path. As the sun disappeared from the maze and the shadows lengthened, dark clouds began to gather so they stopped for Borman to put his jerkin back on.

When they took the next turning, a blank wall met them. Borman muttered an oath under his breath and Jonderill started to feel concerned. He could still see the plan in his mind and to his calculations they should have reached the centre some time ago. Giving Borman an encouraging smile, he turned around and walked back the way they had come, reversing the moves so he could go back to the place where they had made the first wrong turn. He was almost certain of where they were until another dead end barred their way.

Overhead there was a rumble of thunder and large, cold drops of rain pattered down. Borman went to say something but his words were lost in the crash of thunder and the torrential downpour. They pressed themselves against the wall trying to get some shelter but the rain was coming straight down, pounding at their heads and soaking them through. Jonderill could have pulled his hood up but thought that it might infuriate the already angry king.

“You blundering idiot, you’ve got us lost!” yelled Borman above the sound of the storm. “Now get us out of here!”

Jonderill nodded and set off again, puddles of water splashing up his boots, and for the first time ever, rain making his robe sopping wet so it clung to him like an icy blanket. He picked up speed turning left and right and running into another blank wall. Becoming increasingly concerned he turned around and carefully retraced his steps but where before there had been an opening there was just a smooth continuous wall of stone. The realisation of what was going on hit him and his stomach dropped.

“It’s magic!”

“Of course it’s bloody well magic; you don’t think I brought you in here because I like your company do you? Now use your magic and get us out of here.”