The Magehound

"There is nothing to explain," Kiva said in her cool, bell-like tones. "The girl is reputed to have a sharp and clever tongue, and the jordaini were not the only targets of her jests. She insulted Mbatu the day before. The wemic is quick to anger and quicker to attack. He tended his own business, not mine. For that, he has been duly rebuked. As to the misunderstanding about the girl's identity, please recall that I speak your language as a second tongue. I have not the precision of speech that a jordain employs. One scoundrel or two, the girl was the wemic's concern and not mine. I know nothing of her, and that is more than I care to know."

Dimidis looked faintly disappointed by this mundane explanation. "Then I suppose we're finished here. I have little choice but to dismiss the matter. Among the petitions for Matteo's services is one we could hardly ignore. Procopio Septus, Lord Mayor of Halarahh, finds himself in need of counsel."

Matteo's eyes widened at this most unexpected news. Procopio was a powerful diviner, the mayor of Halruaa's capital city and the captain of that city's skyship militia. This was a coveted position and one that far exceeded his aspirations for his first post.

For a moment pride surged, washing away some of the humiliation of the past few days. Then it occurred to him that this post would probably have gone to Andris, had he lived.

Even so, it was a far better fate than he had expected. Matteo dipped into a deep bow. "Humbly I accept this post, Lord Dimidis, if that is the council's desire."

"My wishes have little to do with this," Dimidis said in a sour tone. "Just see that you have no further cause to stand before the Disputation Table, and I will be content."

Several days passed as Matteo traveled to Halarahh, the capital of the land and the home of Zalathorm, the wizard-king. It was not so very far a distance as the raven flies, provided that a raven could be persuaded to fly across the lower edge of the Swamp of Akhlaur and brave the winds that roiled over Lake Halruaa.

The best and safest way to travel was by ship. Matteo set sail from Khaerbaal, skirting the coastline of the Bay of Taertal and moving along the western shores of Lake Halruaa.

The days passed swiftly, despite his increasing anticipation. Matteo had not traveled to Halarahh since his twelfth year. His first glimpse of the city, as the ship rounded the storm break, proved more than equal to his memories.

Much of the city was organized around the docks. But Halarahh was not like Khaerbaal, where prim rows of wooden docks jutted out into the sea and led to businesslike warehouses, inns, and taverns. The royal city had docks, certainly, and ships came and went briskly. But beyond the harbor was a wonderfully broad and open area, paved with colored stone and shaded by trees and fanciful pavilions. This was the site of colorful festivals, seasonal fairs, and open-air markets.

"What fair is currently running?" Matteo asked one of his fellow passengers, a merchant from the eastern foothills.

The man's eyes lit up. "The Monster Fair. It'll be a sight, if you've time to take it in. Good bull aurochs, for farmers who've got the pasturage to feed fuzzy elephants. Don't hold much with them myself. Meat's too gamey. Much prefer a good haunch of rothe."

A faint stab of disappointment assailed Matteo at this mundane description. "It's a market for cattle, then?"

"And everything else. The fancy lizards that ladies keep as pets these days. Birds from the Mhair Jungles. Griffon kittens, dragon eggs. If you can eat it, cage it, put it on a leash, or chop it up for spell parts, like as not it'll be there. I hear tell they've even got a unicorn up for bid."

It was on the tip of Matteo's tongue to ask which of these fates awaited the unicorn, but he decided he would rather not know. He thanked the man and went off to collect his few possessions.

The ship moved smoothly into the dock, and Matteo was met at the plank by men wearing jordaini white and distinctly unpleasant expressions. They looked him over in a manner that made Matteo suddenly sympathetic for the creatures in the market square.

"You're Procopio's latest?" one of them demanded.

"I am Matteo, and I am here to enter the service of Procopio Septus," he agreed.

"Well, come along," the speaker said grudgingly.

The men spun and stalked off, leaving Matteo to follow or not.

He was surprised by the less than enthusiastic welcome, but he was too fascinated by his surroundings to take much offense. Halarahh was a wondrous city, the largest in the land, home to nearly eight thousand souls. Yet as Matteo's escort led him through the market square toward the villa of Procopio Septus, he didn't once get the feeling of being in a close or crowded place.