Chapter 5A

The room beyond the door was dimly lit by some sort of diffused lighting, Siska could see no source, though light reflected from the ceiling. Perhaps it came from recessed holes holding some light source and shining it at the surface overhead. It was not a particularly large room, perhaps thirty feet to a side, larger than any she had been in thus far at the house of the order, but not as big as many rooms in Mistress Tomasina's manor.

Across the far side of the room was a long, low table, that spanned from wall to wall on either side. Behind that were several chairs, standing empty for now. The walls, of simple wood, polished but unpainted, gleamed dully in the indistinct light and shone reddish. The floor was, by far, the most ostentatious thing she had seen at the order's home.

It was marble, inset with gold tracery. The marble was white with faint gray veining. It was polished, like the wood of the table and walls, but to a mirror's finish, and she could see a perfect reflection of the table and ceiling in it. Inset in the center of the floor was a golden disk a pace across, showing a stylized sun with radiating spokes of fire that flowed outward becoming the tracery beyond the disk, losing distinction as it grew more distant from the disk and becoming something of a abstract series of lines and swirls.

"Where are they?" asked Siska after a moment.

Phillip stood quietly near the door. "They will be along, now that they know I am here," he replied. "I'm sure they will wish to put question to me."

She held out her slender hand to him and, with great hesitation, he took it. "It would not do for them to think us lovers," he murmured.

"Far from it, you comfort a frightened apprentice," she said, smiling at him.

A long moment passed as she examined the room. The high-backed chairs seemed carven from the same woods that formed the paneling on the walls. The whole of the room was spotless, but more in a way that showed little use, not immaculate upkeep. The table on the far side showed scuffs and scratches, as did the chairs, and the gold tracery was worn away in a few spots. The stone around the disk and the disk itself, were free of wear, though, as if people avoided treading upon it.

"That seems important," said Siska, nodding toward the disk of gold. "Does it have a meaning?"

Phillip nodded. "It was a gift, long ago, from the then king of Tressen, when we had a king," he said. "It was sworn then that the order would defend the royal house."

"There is no royal house," said Siska, her voice distant with thought.

A bitter grimace crossed Phillip's face. "We failed," he said, simply. "The order could not stop the Night of Flames when it befell the city." He referred to the civil war, almost a hundred years gone, where the king and royal family were put to the sword. None had held that title since, the city falling to rule by a council of nobles from the lesser houses.

Siska stared at him. "It was treachery, was it not?" she asked. She had heard old men of the household telling of the days then. How her great grandfather and great grand dame cowered in the manor of the mistress' great grandfather, hoping the riots and fires would not sweep them away. She shuddered.

"It was, and too quickly for the order to stop them, but we remember the failure every time we meet," he looked at her with a broadening smile. "Now we take our duty to defend the city, instead, lest a king return and there be no city to rule."

A door behind the chairs opened. It was a part of the paneling, and had been all but invisible amid the sections of panels. Two men and two women entered and took up seats amid the nine high-backed chairs. The door shut then, silently.

All were elderly, save one, who was younger, one of the men, perhaps ten years Phillip's senior. The first one to speak said, "The master is absent, who will speak for him?"

One of the women stood, looking left then right with deliberate slowness. She had a kindly face, grandmotherly, with her silver hair tied in a tight bun and glittering blue eyes. "I will speak for the master, if none object."

There were assenting murmurs from the other three present. It seemed to have the feel of ritual, the words spoken mechanically, though with some meaningfulness.

The grandmotherly woman moved to the tallest of the chairs, in the center. "I speak for the master, this meeting is called to order."

The man on her left, the younger man. "Phillip Namen, you stand before us with a visitor?" he asked.

"Not a visitor, council," said Phillip in reply, "a student."

There was a brief murmur. "Her talent does not show, why was she chosen?" asked the grandmotherly woman, occupying the high chair.

"I have been shielding her talent from prying eyes, master," said Phillip. "There are those who would keep us from keeping our ranks strong, as you know."

The murmurs resumed between the four for a moment. "Unshield the lass, Phillip, so that we may assess her worthiness."

Phillip made a brief gesture with two fingers and Siska heard him mutter something, too quietly for her to make out.

All but the younger man gasped. "By the One," said the other lady, a skinny woman with a largish nose and wide, dark eyes. She still had some black amid her silver hairs, and wore it loosely about her shoulders. "She shines like a beacon."

"You were wise to shield her," said the old man. This man reminded Siska of Pacher, the stableman, another of the slaves from the mistress' household. He had always been kind to her, though when he drank it was unwise for her to be alone with him, his hands wandered a bit much for comfort. This man even had the red nose of someone who imbibed more than casually. "There are those in Tressen who would see her as a tool for their use."

Siska thought about those words, then added her own thought: And you will not? Though she kept her mouth clamped shut.

While a moment of silence passed, Phillip stood forward and placed the scroll he had written upon the table before the master. She simply looked at it for now, but rested a age wrinkled hand upon it gently. "We will examine her application momentarily," she said. "There is another matter of import to discuss."

Phillip cringed a bit back and Siska inhaled sharply, thinking she knew what came next.

"You were sent into Tressen to secure for the order, a sum of funds from outstanding credits. Not only did you not return promptly, but you stayed in Tressen until today," she said. "Normally, your coming and going is not our business to concern ourselves with, but when you are acting in a official capacity as treasurer, you are expected to move with due alacrity."

Phillip swallowed hard. "There were - problems - with bringing the funds back," he said.

"Problems?" asked the young man, blinking. "Were you robbed?" His face showed that he did not believe this. One would assume powerful wizards rarely found themselves victims of petty crimes.

The muscles on Phillip's neck became tensed and Siska squeezed his hand. Two of the councilors noted their hand holding with raised eyebrows, but said nothing. "No, I was not robbed. I had to buy Siska," he finally said, lowering his eyes.

"Buy Siska?" asked the master, glowering. "She was a slave?"

"Indeed, she was, master," said Phillip. "I could not allow her to be sold to a brothel or some other such, we need her, she needs teaching." This last he spoke in a flood of words, the earnestness pouring from him.

"So," said the master. "Without a single consultation, or any other form of effort to secure permission, you purchased this young lady and apprenticed her?"

"And freed her," murmured Phillip.

"Your position on slavery is well documented," snapped the old man. There was an edge of disapproval even in this statement that caused Siska to blink.

Phillip seemed to harden his spine at that tone. "It damn well should be the position of the order, councillor," he hissed. "It was ever the position of the royal house, and we, still, are sworn to their service."

"We will not fall to politics in this matter," said the master, holding up a hand. "Both of you will be silent regarding slavery, we have the matter of the missing funds. How much did you spend, Phillip?"

"Two thousands of order moneys, the other thousand I can provide from my own sources," he said, lowering his head again.

"You spent three thousands to free a slip of a slave girl?" stammered the old man, his eyes bulging hugely and his face reddening more. Any resemblance, in Siska's eyes, to the somewhat groping, but generally nice old stableman at the mistress' manor was obliterated by this outburst. He furthered her negative view of him. "Was she well worth the moneys?" he asked, glowering at their clasped hands.

"Silence, Counsilor Embrule," snapped the master. "It is enough that he admits to his transgress for now." She then turned to Phillip. "How do you propose to make up the difference?"

"I don't know," said Phillip. "But I will."

"I'll do it," said Siska, shocked to hear her own voice ring out in the room. It was the first thing she had said to the council. "I'll repay the difference, as soon as I am able, or if needed now, I'll pay as much as I can by reselling myself into slavery."

The old man seemed to almost smile at this, but Siska found her back straightening and her eyes hardening in a way she did not know she could. "I will swear to repay every mark of my purchase, plus any interest you deem reasonable, as a 'loan' for my freedom, if you will allow it."

The master considered her words. "A brave statement from one who is not even sure to become a wizard."

"You know I will," said Siska. "You all seem to think I'm powerful beyond reason, and I know I can learn anything set before me." Siska was unsure where the confidence filling her voice originated, but found herself glad of its presence. Even Phillip was gaping at her openly now.

In Phillip's eyes, she stood proudly and looked for all the world, a foot taller and even more beautiful than she had as a meek apprentice girl. Her violet eyes flashed in the dim light of the council chamber. "Will you accept my word to repay you and not punish Mentor Phillip beyond removing him from the office of Treasurer?"

The council put their heads together, harsh rapid whispers shot back and forth. The old man seemed to not like the idea, and the skinny woman seemed to side with him. However the younger man seemed to side with Phillip in this matter, and the master also seemed willing. They finally stopped and the master sat up. "It is the decision of the council that we accept your pledge of repayment, Siska, and to remove Phillip from the position of Treasurer, and he will not hold office in any position, for a period of not less than ten years."

Siska smiled, feeling her spine turn to jelly and turned to Phillip who looked both shocked and pleased. "We only accept your word as you are also accepted as an apprentice to the order, and must take the Oath."

"Kneel and touch your hand to the disk," said Phillip in almost a whisper.

Siska knelt on the cool marble and reached forth to touch the disk with the fingertips of her right hand. She looked up to meet the eyes of the master, who stood and said, "Do you, Siska, swear to uphold the crown of Tressen and the honor of the city?"

She felt a cool shiver through her body, but nodded and said, "I swear it."

Somehow, it felt right in her mind to give that oath.

"Do you swear to not use your gift to harm without cause and to help at need those who ask?"

"I swear it," said Siska.

"Do you swear to protect the weak and fight darkness, where it might be found?" asked the master.

"I swear it," said Siska.

"Rise, Siska of the Blue Order, Apprentice to Phillip Namen, and be welcome among your brothers and sisters. There was a decided happy sound to the woman's voice, as if she were truly welcome. Siska could not stifle a few tears which rolled down her smooth cheeks. The master sat again. "This meeting is concluded," she said with a bit of formality.

At that, the four rose and the old man and the skinny woman left the room, looking none too pleased. The grandmotherly one, who had sat as master, came around the table, lifting an end leaf that adjoined it to the wall and hugged Siska. "Welcome sister," she said, then stood back. "Far too few girls come to the order, I am truly happy to have you here."

The younger man came around the table, as well, patting her shoulder and eyeing Phillip oddly. "Leave it to you to find the prettiest girl in Tressen as an apprentice."

"We will assume," said old woman, "that Phillip had purely professional reasons to recruit Siska. One knows, her power alone was worthy of it."

Siska blushed a bit at her words and earned another raised eyebrow from the woman. "If they had not been purely professional, they must be now," she said, and gave Phillip a slightly disapproving look as well.

"If it was not, master, it was my doing," said Siska hastily. "I did not know the prohibition, but Mentor Phillip did resist me trying to show - gratitude."

A chuckle came from the woman and she patted Phillip. "A sore trial, I imagine," she said, then looked at Siska again. "Please, we're not in council any more, call me Stormy."

"Mentor Stormy?" asked Siska.

"My parents were traditionalists," she said. "Many girls were given names of such kind when I was a girl."

Siska thought a moment. "I have a friend named Mist," she said.

"That would be one of them, yes," said Stormy. "I fear, the names hang more lightly on girls your own age than on old women, but Stormy is my name."

The young man pulled Phillip off to the side, speaking low, as to not be overheard. "You are lucky that Yekks is not present today," he said. "He would have sided with Embrule and the master's tie breaking vote would not have availed you."

"Where is he?" asked Phillip, though he was glad he was not here.

"He took passage to Scythe Isle to tend to some matters on his estates," said the younger man. "You know he has little problem with the idea of slavery, as his estates are farmed by them."

Phillip thought about Yekks' fields and orchards, worked by slave labor. "True, he would not have much sympathy for Siska, would he?"

"Not a whit," said the younger man. "He would have happily mortgaged the girl when she offered it, though, and taken her off as a private thrall. One knows he has the resources."

The very idea of Siska at the mercy of Yekks caused Phillip to shudder. "Well, that matter is passed," said the younger man, smiling. "She's got spine, that one, standing up to the council before even being apprenticed. I half voted in favor just to see how she does in the order."

"Tarmal, She will dominate it in five years, mark my words," said Phillip quietly. "You saw her power. Also, she learns so fast it's frightening."

"Does she?" asked Tarmal. "Well, it should be an interesting five years, then."

Siska sat on a small stool she had retrieved from the clutter in one corner of Phillip's office while he worked a ledger book, prior to handing it over to the incoming treasurer. "I really must thank you," he said, grinning. "You put the idea of punishing me by stripping me of the office of treasurer."

She looked up and blinked at him, her finger holding the page she was on in a thick, dusty tome on pyromancy. "You don't mind the loss?" she asked.

"Not in the least," said Phillip. "It was a lot of work and responsibility. Don't get me wrong, it was an honor, but not an easy honor."

A giggle escaped her lips. "I suppose for someone to whom clutter comes easily, the order of accounts was trying," she said.

"Truth from babes," said Phillip.

"How old are you, mentor?" she asked, as if the mention of her being young had brought it to mind.

Phillip paused in his scribblings in the ledger to look at her. "A very impolitic question," he said, "but I am sixty seven."

She studied his face. "I would have thought in your thirties," she said.

"The men in my family don't show age much, and wizards even less so," said Phillip. "There are spells which can slow the progress, perhaps double one's lifespan, if nothing goes wrong."

"It seems a lot can go wrong with magic," said Siska, eyeing her book. "The descriptions of fire's backlash is horrifying, and it cannot be healed by magic."

"That's true," said Phillip, returning to his paper. "Be very wary of mageflame. One protect me." The last was said as he raised his head again to regard Siska with a six inch flame of bright green dancing on her palm. "You cannot be learning that fast, girl," he murmured.

Siska smiled up at him. "Are you not pleased?" she asked, closing her hand and extinguishing the flame as she did so. "I would have thought you happy at my learning."

"I am amazed and frightened," Siska, "it takes weeks, just to learn to grasp fire safely for most people."

"I'll slow down, if you like, mentor," she said soberly, though he could tell he had hurt her feelings a bit.

"No, but please, never strain, never force yourself to do something larger than you can without effort," he said. "That is when most mistakes happen."

Siska laughed, a girlish laugh, and one that made him smile, too. He liked being reminded that she was a girl, and a young pretty one, at that.

Another flame leaped from her hand, hovering over it. A jet five feet long and roaring with fury. It was seething orange and red and she grinned at it, light reflecting from her face. "If I release that much power, I will scorch your ceiling."

"You. You're not trying right now, not straining?" he asked, eyes widening.

Siska shook her head, lifting her other hand and igniting an identical flame in that palm. "No, mentor, this is easy." The frightened look on Phillip's face made her close the palms, and the flames blinked out of existence. "I scare you," she said. "I saw that."

"I fear for you, there is a difference," said Phillip. "No more magic this evening, besides, don't you have an appointment with Mist?"

"Yes, I do," said Siska, rising from her stool. "We will have time for me to go?"

Phillip smiled as he stood and slung his cloak over his shoulders. "I believe we do, I don't want you missing out on having friends." In the back of his mind he welcomed anything that would keep her from looking at more magical texts for a few hours. Perhaps, with luck, a young man might catch her eye. One who liked to distract her, preferably.

The ride back into Tressen was pleasant, despite the cool winds that made Siska shiver beneath the light cloak and silk robes. The sun shone and the fresh air made her smile, flavored with the scent of the forest and, faintly, the ocean.

The city itself was not nearly so sweet smelling. Tressen was clean, as cities went, and only faintly smelled of sewage, a smell that grew stronger the longer it had been since a good rain. The bay, itself smelled of shallows, of muddy shores and fishy. Siska wondered that she had never noted the scents before, but she supposed one grew used to them until you left for a while.

She rather wished to go back to the home in the forest.

"We're to meet them in the park," said Mist, grinning as she took Siska's arm and guided her into the flow of pedestrians on Rayfish Way, the avenue that ran before Phillip's home. Occasional horses spiced the crowd, and even rarer carriages and wagons. Tressen was an island city, and there was little need for long endurance transport of any kind, as there was not terribly far to go anywhere on the island. Only those who must move heavy loads or the very wealthy used them.