Chapter 4

Until it reached the mountains in the west, the road to Silverlake was the same road I'd traveled two years earlier to Warmuth Bridge. Perhaps it was the same road, but there was little about it that seemed familiar.

"The forest is still growing at a rapid pace." I observed to my master as we rode through lightly forested woods where once open plains had been.

"It is," he replied with a soft sigh. "It grows southward so fast you can almost watch it move. The northern edges are so thick as to be almost impenetrable."

"The heart of it didn't seem all that different when I was in it," I commented, thinking back on my trip to Nacre Springs.

"The heart of the wood holds true, and perhaps more for you than anyone. We can imagine why, can't we?"

"I suppose," I answered somewhat more glumly than I'd intended. "I'd rather have the girl to love than her memory, even if that memory lives on within the wood."

"Its more than memory, but what more? I would tell you if I knew."

"And King Tynis gave you permission?" I added.

"Your comment is a bit cruel, but not untrue in the end. Yes, there are things Tynis passes on to me that I am not allowed to tell you. I no longer bother pretending otherwise, you know that."

"I do," I conceded. I was letting my frustration turn to anger, and in a direction I had no reason to. "I apologize, master. This situation is not of your doing."

"Wizards are forever magnets for fame or infamy, Pacasin. I've told you this before. Kings and wizards are forever being assigned the credit or the blame for whatever befalls the common folks around them. Sometimes we receive both for the same action."

"As much as we seem to insert ourselves into their lives, its easy to understand."

"True enough," Ethric turned in the saddle and looked at me, a baleful glare that was aimed far beyond me, but chilling nonetheless. "Too little, too late, too much, too soon. We do what our king's order us to do, and what Gaen demands as well, and seldom do we do it in a way that satisfies all sides."

"Lightning rods of blame and pools of hope," I quoted from somewhere in my studies. "I remember those lessons well indeed, my master," The sigh with which I said it did much to wipe the glare from my masters face, replacing it with a rueful grin. "I had hoped I might suffer those conditions within your shadow until I had at least made it past my first lifetime, but it was too much to expect, I suppose."

"Most apprentices have similar expectations, Pacasin, and for many, it is one they manage to meet. You, unfortunately have just been too damned clever for your own good. You have been your whole life."

"I have assumed that that phrase was as good as any for describing a wizard," I said after a few moments riding in silence. "Too damned clever for their own good."

"Indeed," he muttered, and we rode on in silence for a great while.

≈

Silverlake is both more and less remote than most believe it to be. Buried as it is within a cluster of some of the highest peaks on Gaen, getting there and living there can be a formidable task. The air is thin so high up, and travelers can take some time to accommodate themselves to breathing it.

Live there people do though, for here is a place where Gaen has been torn open to reveal the riches that lay beneath us all. Gold and silver mostly, and silver in particular, as dearly as it is treasured by kings and wizards. Gold, being somewhat more plentiful and somewhat less useful to the arts of the right-born and the might-born, is often overlooked in the stories of Silverlake, but still it remains the purest source within the northern kingdoms at least, if not all of Gaen.

Gold was what I came for; gold with which I'd wrap the hilt of my new sword and dagger. My master came with me, for it was at his insistence, not mine that I garner my gold directly rather than through Myre Gudin or one of his peers in Trilin. Having suggested I make the trip, he announced his intention to accompany me, to provide the lords of Silverlake with some sense that their wardstone was safe from me. Log distance reassurances were not sufficient, it seemed, or else he felt it necessary to find an excuse to get out of the tower and on horseback again. Perhaps it was just a desire to see the effects of the expanding north woods with his own eyes. The trail we had followed the past week through lightly forested woodlands was the same trail that had crossed through endless miles of open prairie the last time we'd traveled it.

I took in the wards guarding the gates of Silverlake with an automatic, practiced eye. As with others I'd seen, these were disguised with layers of rare earth either below or above the runeworks themselves. I had come to recognize this particular bit of subterfuge when I saw it, but it would be difficult to tell which technique had been used, or even if it had been both combined, without stopping to study them, which of course was by design. There was something else about the wards though, or the runes that made them, I could feel it, but wasn't sure what it was I was feeling, except for a sense of a greater than expected amount of power behind them. I made a mental note to ask my master about it when we were alone.

Approaching the gates of Silverlake was not something one did without notice. The way the trail wound its way up the mountainside gave those guarding the gate plenty of notice. As well, we were expected, my master having sent word ahead of our arrival. We were met, and met by more than a token force headed by Kaith Jansin, Magister of Silverlake. Ethric did not speak as we came to a halt before the gates, and I kept my place beside and behind him, remaining silent as well. I could feel their unfriendly eyes upon me. An awkward silence grew as my master waited for Magister Jansin to greet him. Before the silence grew beyond unfriendly, the magister spoke.

"Greetings Valedon," he said with a slight bow of his head. The shallow bow itself might have been taken as insult, but my master ignored it for the moment, but was equally curt in his response.

"Magister," he replied, with no return bow at all. Again we waited. Again the silence grew.

"When word came of your arrival, we wondered at its purpose. The wards are in no danger?"

"The wards are fine, as you know, Jansin," my master said with some contempt. "We are not here to tend the wardstone."

When my master gave no indication of speaking further on the matter, I saw the magister sigh and bow his head towards Ethric. Deeper this time, giving him his due. "Welcome then to Silverlake."

We were escorted inside the walls of the keep, though it appeared I was the one who had the true escort. Two armed men walked ahead of me and two men behind, and I could sense that their attentions were not on my defense, but on me. I whistled the opening notes to Shattering the Chain, an old spell meant to ward against confinement. My master understood my meaning immediately and laughed. The magister scowled and my master returned a dark look that kept the magister from any questions.

"We shall take you to the wizard's tower," the magister told us. "You will want to freshen up after your long trip, I'm sure."

A bath was welcome, and though clean clothes are never really much of a problem for a wizard, the chance to change out of our trail gear was welcome too. When Ethric was done with the bath I took my turn, but did not dally. I was sure he was unhappy with the current situation and would want to discuss it.

"Though they knew we were coming, there was no effort made to stock the tower's larder it seems," he said as I joined him. "If we want something to eat, we will have to go get it."

"They seem intent on insulting us," I observed.

"They are feeling insulted themselves, I assume, by my having brought you here."

"I guess I can understand their feeling, after what I let happen at Hoartongue keep,"

"They are welcome to feel what they want," my master said, his mood growing dark again. "but in this case, they have chosen to extend those feelings to me, and I cannot allow that. The question is, what do we do about it?"

"What can we do?" I asked this, knowing what my master was capable of, and knowing that there were political considerations that I might not have complete appreciation of.

"Their actions to this point are already enough that I should be reporting it to King Tynis. As you travel with my authority when I send you out, so too do I travel with his authority wherever I go. To slight me at the gates of the keep in this way was a slight to the king, and would have to be dealt with as such, if I were to take official notice of it."

"How else can you take notice?"

"Perhaps the easiest for me and Tynis would be for me to pretend it is a slight only to you," my master raised an eyebrow towards me as he said this, so I knew he expected me to respond to this suggestion.

"If I am the one slighted, then it would be up to me to respond, not you or the King."

"Exactly," Ethric nodded, grinning at me. "And the fact that we came here for your gold makes it even more reasonable a stance. You will be the injured party."

"Will I have to duel someone on the sands again?" I asked, remembering our time at Warmouth Bridge and the concerns my master had shown over those possibilities. "Someone like Stannis?"

"Perhaps," he answered, his face growing dark again. It struck me at that very moment, how often his face grew dark away from the tower, and how seldom it did so within it. "Probably, but remember the difference this time. This will be no test, rather you will be seeking satisfaction for the slight they have made. There will be no restrictions."

I nodded my understanding, but did not show any emotions, keeping a sober face. A part of me wished to be let loose again, a part I had been rebuilding and denying at the same time. I fingered the empty pommels of my sword and dagger and thought about how it would feel to wield my weapons against an opponent again. Sword and dagger seemed to vibrate in response to my touch and to my mood.

"For the moment though, we are shoppers, come to Silverlake in search of gold, are we not?" my master asked.

So we were, and so we went, dressed only in plain outfits as we left the tower and walked to the center of the keep and the street of the guilds. Neither of us went armed, though my new weapons were now never more than a slight bit of magic away, and only a fool would think to attack a wizard in the first place. With no food in the tower, our first stop was the Inn of the Engraved Rose.

Though it was well past time for lunch, we were able to order stew and bread, and there was a berry pie and lavis to go with it. The serving girl who took our order and brought us our food smiled at me warily, offering less of a smile in my master's direction. Doubtless his face was familiar enough that she knew he was a wizard. My status was somewhat more in doubt, I guessed, and we appeared to be of similar years.

She was comely, and did not remind me of Ilesa in any way, so I managed to return her smile, but quickly diverted my attention to the stew.

The four armed men who had shadowed us from the tower to the inn had not escaped our notice, and when we left the inn on our way to the guild houses, they resumed their place behind us.

"Gilders?" my master asked once we were on the street of the guilds.

"No, Miner's Guild, I think," I answered. He understood my reasons and nodded. We followed the street to the end, entering the doorway with a silver pick and gold shovel above the door.

A man sat behind a desk in the rather small room that we found ourselves in, and after regarding him for a moment, my master spoke. "Greetings, Olvar, isn't it?"

"It is, Valedon," the man answered with a bow of the head. "Welcome to the Miner's Guild. What can the guild do for you today?"

"My apprentice is in need of some gold," my master told him, and with my identity acknowledged, some of the pleasantness left the man's face.

"I understand," he answered, his eyes remaining locked on me. "If I might suggest the Gilder's Hall?"

"Processed gold will not do, as is sometimes the case when dealing with a wizard, guildsman," my master's tone too became a little less warm.

"Of course," the guildsman answered with a sigh, his shoulders dropping slightly. "Would you like to sample the ore carts due for shipment?"

I would have rather gone into the mines proper, but I understood the desire these men had to keep some secrets when it came to the source of their gold. "That would be acceptable."

"Very well," my master said then. "I will leave you two to complete this business. Olvar, you may expect payment from me, not my apprentice, understood?"

"Of course," the guildsman nodded more deeply than before.