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The Magehound :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 41 из 216Wizards used them to attract lighting, which often served to affix aspell into an enchanted item. There was a sharp sizzle as the lodestone drew the sparks. Then the cloud, deprived of much of its energy, began to dissipate.
The brawl settled down to a simmer of muttered insults and halfhearted shoves. Matteo wove through the mess toward the house wizard, a small dark man whom he had met before on his one trip to Khaerbaal. He stooped and picked up the lodestone, pocketing it and hoping that the wizard did not recall the last time Themo had visited this tavern.
But the little man glowered at Matteo as if the melee had been entirely his fault. Though Matteo kept his gaze level, he inclined his head in a slight bow. The wizard seemed somewhat mollified by this unnecessary courtesy.
"Your friend is trouble," he said scornfully but with less vitriol than Matteo had right to expect.
"He is young and greatly troubled," Matteo said mildly. He was tempted to contradict the wizard outright, but it seemed wiser to restate the older man's words and nudge them toward truth. "But he is jordaini, and therefore his deeds are mine. Perhaps these coins will purchase your master's forbearance."
The wizard opened the small bag Matteo handed him. Headmaster Ferris Grail, probably anticipating something like this, had instructed the jordaini's steward to dispense coins with a lavish hand.
The wizard's lips moved as he counted the sum within. "This will cover the damage," he agreed.
"And Themo's expenses? I assume he had a bit to drink," Matteo said dryly. His words held a rebuke, for by law it was forbidden to serve anything stronger than wine to a jordain. The effort made to keep the jordaini free of magic's influence would be wasted if their wits were confused by drink or pipe weed.
The wizard was too busy recounting the coins to notice Matteo's mild accusation. Since the amount in the bag far exceeded what Themo could drink or break in the course of a fortnight of grief, the wizard looked only too happy to call matters settled. He even clapped his arm around the young jordain's shoulders.
"Drink with me," he said expansively. "There's no bard in the house this day, but an entertainer or two stayed on when their troupe passed through. You might find such sport amusing."
Matteo doubted that sincerely, but he could find no polite reason to refuse the wizard's offer. He allowed himself to be guided to a table, and he sipped at a glass of pale yellow wine that the wizard poured from a silver decanter. The wizard launched into a tale of other battles he had quelled.
The brawl settled down to a simmer of muttered insults and halfhearted shoves. Matteo wove through the mess toward the house wizard, a small dark man whom he had met before on his one trip to Khaerbaal. He stooped and picked up the lodestone, pocketing it and hoping that the wizard did not recall the last time Themo had visited this tavern.
But the little man glowered at Matteo as if the melee had been entirely his fault. Though Matteo kept his gaze level, he inclined his head in a slight bow. The wizard seemed somewhat mollified by this unnecessary courtesy.
"Your friend is trouble," he said scornfully but with less vitriol than Matteo had right to expect.
"He is young and greatly troubled," Matteo said mildly. He was tempted to contradict the wizard outright, but it seemed wiser to restate the older man's words and nudge them toward truth. "But he is jordaini, and therefore his deeds are mine. Perhaps these coins will purchase your master's forbearance."
The wizard opened the small bag Matteo handed him. Headmaster Ferris Grail, probably anticipating something like this, had instructed the jordaini's steward to dispense coins with a lavish hand.
The wizard's lips moved as he counted the sum within. "This will cover the damage," he agreed.
"And Themo's expenses? I assume he had a bit to drink," Matteo said dryly. His words held a rebuke, for by law it was forbidden to serve anything stronger than wine to a jordain. The effort made to keep the jordaini free of magic's influence would be wasted if their wits were confused by drink or pipe weed.
The wizard was too busy recounting the coins to notice Matteo's mild accusation. Since the amount in the bag far exceeded what Themo could drink or break in the course of a fortnight of grief, the wizard looked only too happy to call matters settled. He even clapped his arm around the young jordain's shoulders.
"Drink with me," he said expansively. "There's no bard in the house this day, but an entertainer or two stayed on when their troupe passed through. You might find such sport amusing."
Matteo doubted that sincerely, but he could find no polite reason to refuse the wizard's offer. He allowed himself to be guided to a table, and he sipped at a glass of pale yellow wine that the wizard poured from a silver decanter. The wizard launched into a tale of other battles he had quelled.