Read Online Sun Cross 1 - The Rainbow Abyss by Barbara Hambly - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Barbara Hambly
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the Oath not to concern oneself in the affairs of humankind…”
“It was the Selarnists who split off from the Morkensiks,” retorted Jaldis, with a frown of anger and what would have been a deadly edge to his voice, had it been capable of anything except a sweet, buzzing monotone. “And the Oath was and always has been, to do no harm…”
“Be that as it may.”
The Selarnist’s tone was clear:
What is the point
, it asked,
of bandying words with a heretic
? “We cannot, alas, deny you what you consider to be your right to ‘make a living,’ as you say; but we can deny you your freedom to do so in tins town. Now, you are welcome to stay in our House for a time if poverty is a problem…”
“So that you can tell me what I can and cannot do?” Jaldis demanded. “So that you can sequester my books, and my crystals, and the implements of my art, in your own library, for the good of the magistrates of this town?” And Rhion saw Chelfrednig’s eyes shift. “Thank you,” the old man went on stiffly, “but we will earn our bread in some other fashion while we are here, and study as we please.”
“I am afraid,” Chelfrednig said, “that that is not an option open to you either. The guilds in Imber are quite strict about wizards entering businesses or trades. Quite understandably, seeing how an unscrupulous mage—one not bound by
proper
rules—could take an unfair advantage of lesser men.”
Hesitantly, the landlady said, “I’m sorry. But you see, I sell most of my greens to them, and milk…” Her bright, worried eyes went nervously from Jaldis’ face to Rhion’s, torn between her liking for them, her need for money, her sense of justice, and her fear that, as wizards, they would cause a scene of the kind she could barely guess at and draw down still more trouble upon her head.
“Right…” Rhion muttered furiously, and Jaldis placed a staying hand upon his shoulder from behind, and inclined his head.
“Very well,” he said. “My good woman… ” He turned his disconcertingly insectile gaze upon her, and she shrank back in spite of herself. “My sincerest apologies for the trouble we may have caused you, and…” With a very slight motion of his head he indicated the two Selarnists, “… my apologies to you on behalf of all wizardry, that these persons considered it incumbent upon themselves to interfere in your life.” He turned to face Chelfrednig fully. “We shall be gone by sunset. Is that sufficient?”
“Noon would be better,” the old woman with the ashstaff said, speaking for the first time, “if you want to come to shelter before night.”
“That,” replied Jaldis chillingly, “is our business. I bid you good day.”
They were on the road again by noon. “The nerve of them!” Rhion fumed, picking his way cautiously along the most solidly frozen and least cut-up side of the main highroad that led from Imber south through the hills toward the steep-sided Valley of the Morne, and so on to the Mountains of the Sun, and to Nerriok beyond. “I mean, it’s not like we were Hand-Prickers or Earth-witches selling cut-rate horoscopes and conversations with your dead ancestors on the street corners, you know! We’re Morkensiks! We were the original founding line of wizardry… !” His foot slipped where a cartwheel earlier in the day had sliced through the snow and into the frozen clay beneath. He caught himself on the walking staff he’d cut, and put out a hand to guide Jaldis around the place.
Beyond the brown hedges and drainage cuts that hemmed in the road the fields lay empty under the silence of winter. Even this short a distance from the town walls the hedges were overgrown, the ditches silting up, and sedges prickling thick and black through the blanket of dirty snow. The road itself was narrow and unkept; for a long time the township of Imber had been disregarding the corvee laws of its titular liege, the Earl of Way.
“It was the Selarnists who split off from the Morkensiks,” retorted Jaldis, with a frown of anger and what would have been a deadly edge to his voice, had it been capable of anything except a sweet, buzzing monotone. “And the Oath was and always has been, to do no harm…”
“Be that as it may.”
The Selarnist’s tone was clear:
What is the point
, it asked,
of bandying words with a heretic
? “We cannot, alas, deny you what you consider to be your right to ‘make a living,’ as you say; but we can deny you your freedom to do so in tins town. Now, you are welcome to stay in our House for a time if poverty is a problem…”
“So that you can tell me what I can and cannot do?” Jaldis demanded. “So that you can sequester my books, and my crystals, and the implements of my art, in your own library, for the good of the magistrates of this town?” And Rhion saw Chelfrednig’s eyes shift. “Thank you,” the old man went on stiffly, “but we will earn our bread in some other fashion while we are here, and study as we please.”
“I am afraid,” Chelfrednig said, “that that is not an option open to you either. The guilds in Imber are quite strict about wizards entering businesses or trades. Quite understandably, seeing how an unscrupulous mage—one not bound by
proper
rules—could take an unfair advantage of lesser men.”
Hesitantly, the landlady said, “I’m sorry. But you see, I sell most of my greens to them, and milk…” Her bright, worried eyes went nervously from Jaldis’ face to Rhion’s, torn between her liking for them, her need for money, her sense of justice, and her fear that, as wizards, they would cause a scene of the kind she could barely guess at and draw down still more trouble upon her head.
“Right…” Rhion muttered furiously, and Jaldis placed a staying hand upon his shoulder from behind, and inclined his head.
“Very well,” he said. “My good woman… ” He turned his disconcertingly insectile gaze upon her, and she shrank back in spite of herself. “My sincerest apologies for the trouble we may have caused you, and…” With a very slight motion of his head he indicated the two Selarnists, “… my apologies to you on behalf of all wizardry, that these persons considered it incumbent upon themselves to interfere in your life.” He turned to face Chelfrednig fully. “We shall be gone by sunset. Is that sufficient?”
“Noon would be better,” the old woman with the ashstaff said, speaking for the first time, “if you want to come to shelter before night.”
“That,” replied Jaldis chillingly, “is our business. I bid you good day.”
They were on the road again by noon. “The nerve of them!” Rhion fumed, picking his way cautiously along the most solidly frozen and least cut-up side of the main highroad that led from Imber south through the hills toward the steep-sided Valley of the Morne, and so on to the Mountains of the Sun, and to Nerriok beyond. “I mean, it’s not like we were Hand-Prickers or Earth-witches selling cut-rate horoscopes and conversations with your dead ancestors on the street corners, you know! We’re Morkensiks! We were the original founding line of wizardry… !” His foot slipped where a cartwheel earlier in the day had sliced through the snow and into the frozen clay beneath. He caught himself on the walking staff he’d cut, and put out a hand to guide Jaldis around the place.
Beyond the brown hedges and drainage cuts that hemmed in the road the fields lay empty under the silence of winter. Even this short a distance from the town walls the hedges were overgrown, the ditches silting up, and sedges prickling thick and black through the blanket of dirty snow. The road itself was narrow and unkept; for a long time the township of Imber had been disregarding the corvee laws of its titular liege, the Earl of Way.
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