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The Magehound :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 15 из 216"A small ship approaches," he said mildly, pointing to the craft leaving the damaged Avariel. "It would seem that Basel Indoulur is a man who honors his wagers."
If Procopio Septus heard the rebuke in the elf's voice, he gave no indication. "That is not a ship but a flying carpet Your eyes begin to fail you, Zephyr. How reassuring for both of us that your counsel has not."
The elf did not miss the implied threat "You are pleased with the new jordain I selected? Rualli is doing well?"
Procopio smiled thinly. "Not so well that I intend to replace you, if that's what you're asking. But let's speak of your recruitment efforts."
For a moment Zephyr's heart thudded painfully, then he realized that his patron could not possibly know of Kiva and Zephyr's secret efforts on her behalf.
"There are several promising students at the Jordaini College," Zephyr said mildly. "Tell me more about what you desire in your new counselors, so that I might make a closer match. For that matter, I could serve you better if I understood why you wished to hire so many. Most wizards content themselves with the counsel of a single jordain."
Procopio nodded toward the approaching carpet and the small woman seated on it. "He who lives by the sword dies by it. The same could be said of magic. You have seen the problems that occur when a wizard surrounds himself with mages of lesser skill. It creates vulnerability. That I cannot have."
The elf understood this, for he himself was a jordain, a superbly trained counselor chosen not only for his keen mind, but also for his utter lack of magical ability. The jordaini were highly resistant to magic and bounded by a multitude of rules that kept them separate from the normal flow of Halruaan life. They underwent rigorous training and took sacred vows: service to the land, their wizard patron, and truth. Death was the penalty for using magic or speaking untruth. Harsh, to be sure, but it was one of many things that kept the jordaini honest. Infractions were rare. Zephyr did not know of a single living jordain who flouted these rules-save for himself.
"It is a comfort to speak plainly," Procopio said. "No one can take my secrets from your mind. A man in my position can afford to surround himself with any comfort he desires."
"That is at best a partial truth, my lord," the elf said sternly. "You hire jordaini who are outstanding in the art of warfare. Why? You are lord mayor of this city and captain of its skyship fleet, but King Zalathorm directs the military."
The wizard turned to face Zephyr. "As will he who rules after Zalathorm."
For a moment they stood in silence.
If Procopio Septus heard the rebuke in the elf's voice, he gave no indication. "That is not a ship but a flying carpet Your eyes begin to fail you, Zephyr. How reassuring for both of us that your counsel has not."
The elf did not miss the implied threat "You are pleased with the new jordain I selected? Rualli is doing well?"
Procopio smiled thinly. "Not so well that I intend to replace you, if that's what you're asking. But let's speak of your recruitment efforts."
For a moment Zephyr's heart thudded painfully, then he realized that his patron could not possibly know of Kiva and Zephyr's secret efforts on her behalf.
"There are several promising students at the Jordaini College," Zephyr said mildly. "Tell me more about what you desire in your new counselors, so that I might make a closer match. For that matter, I could serve you better if I understood why you wished to hire so many. Most wizards content themselves with the counsel of a single jordain."
Procopio nodded toward the approaching carpet and the small woman seated on it. "He who lives by the sword dies by it. The same could be said of magic. You have seen the problems that occur when a wizard surrounds himself with mages of lesser skill. It creates vulnerability. That I cannot have."
The elf understood this, for he himself was a jordain, a superbly trained counselor chosen not only for his keen mind, but also for his utter lack of magical ability. The jordaini were highly resistant to magic and bounded by a multitude of rules that kept them separate from the normal flow of Halruaan life. They underwent rigorous training and took sacred vows: service to the land, their wizard patron, and truth. Death was the penalty for using magic or speaking untruth. Harsh, to be sure, but it was one of many things that kept the jordaini honest. Infractions were rare. Zephyr did not know of a single living jordain who flouted these rules-save for himself.
"It is a comfort to speak plainly," Procopio said. "No one can take my secrets from your mind. A man in my position can afford to surround himself with any comfort he desires."
"That is at best a partial truth, my lord," the elf said sternly. "You hire jordaini who are outstanding in the art of warfare. Why? You are lord mayor of this city and captain of its skyship fleet, but King Zalathorm directs the military."
The wizard turned to face Zephyr. "As will he who rules after Zalathorm."
For a moment they stood in silence.