The Wizardwar   ::   Каннингем Элейн

Themo seized the bottle and pulled out the cork with his teeth, then took a long pull. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"You were speaking of orcs and their manners?" Matteo teased in a dry tone.

The big jordain shrugged. "I'd better hammer while the forge burns and the iron is hot. You know how the jordaini masters can be about wine."

Matteo sat down in the room's only chair. "You seem resigned to returning to the Jordaini College."

"Have I any choice?"

The question was rhetorical, but Matteo answered it anyway. "Follow your heart, and become a warrior rather than a counselor."

Surprise widened Themo's eyes. "This is possible?"

"It is uncommon, but not entirely unknown. A dispensation from Zalathorm would free you from your vows." Matteo looked keenly at the somber-faced man. "I thought you would be pleased by this prospect."

Themo threw aside the covers and paced over to the window. He propped his hands on the sill as if he could not bear, unsupported, the weight he carried. "I'm not sure I'm meant to be a warrior."

"That's a strange sentiment from the best fighter to come out of the Jordaini College this decade."

The jordain let out a short burst of humorless laughter. "Truth, Halruaa, and the wizard-lords," he reminded Matteo. "You might be doing well for yourself in the last two categories, but seems to me you're falling a bit short in truth-telling. How many times have you pinned me? How many times has Andris gotten his blade against my throat? I'm the biggest among us, sure, but the best?"

"You have something Andris and I lack. You fight with passion, even joy."

He turned away. "So do the drow."

Matteo blinked in surprise, but then he saw the sense of it. "The dark fairies saw your love of battle, and turned it against you. That's what overcame you, and what causes you to doubt yourself still. They twisted it, Themo."

"Not by much," the big man responded. "During that battle, I relived every mistake I've ever made, and every dark secret I have. That wasn't all-it was like I was responsible, personally, for every wrongdoing in Halruaa's past."

Fear, bitter and burning, rose in Matteo's throat like bile. If Themo suffered so in a short battle with the dark fairies, how was Tzigone faring in the Unseelie Court? Until now Matteo had been able to temper his concern with memories of her quixotic sense of honor. Tzigone was no paladin, but she had courage and a good heart.